Blending In
by Wandering Namek
Summary: Meet Tonkeshin, an optimistic Namek with a lot to prove. [COMPLETE]
1. 1

> > >   

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
  
_Click._   
"Riiiiiise and shiiiine, Satan city! This is Kreemin Shooger at SC one - oh - three - point - five! The time is seven-thirty! We have bright sunshine with lows in the mid fifties and highs in the upper eighties. We'll be back with your traffic report right after this - "   
One hand searched the nightstand, located the clock and flipped off the alarm. Crisp sheets rustled in protest as a sleepy figure stirred beneath them.   
Tonkeshin groaned and climbed from his comfortable bed. He'd mistakenly set the clock to play music instead of the proper wake-up message again. What a shame, his old alarm clock met an untimely death under his foot last week.   
He stood up and stretched every muscle in his lean six and a half foot frame. Some joints popped into alignment, making him sigh. He reached down to adjust his silk boxers, dropped to the floor and did a few push-ups. That always woke him up.   
"Another day." Tonk muttered to himself, standing up. He slid a palm along the wall until he felt cold metal and pulled. The vertical blinds clattered open, filling the room with warmth.   
Tonkeshin stood at the window and let the sunlight warm him. Muffled city sounds reached him through the warm glass inches from his face. He stared blankly ahead.   
Unfortunately, time didn't allow him to drink in the morning for long.   
Turning away from the window, Tonkeshin headed for the closet. The business suit he'd selected for today hung on the hook inside the door. Brown, if the sales clerk had told him correctly, with a red tie and white shirt. Prodding the jacket's large buttons proved him right. He dressed himself accordingly and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth.   
_Hm, looks like I need more toothpaste._ Tonkeshin noted mentally. The rolled toothpaste tube had just enough for one last use. He set to work scrubbing his healthy teeth with the toothbrush. Making extra sure he didn't miss his sharp fangs. Brushing his teeth wasn't really a necessity, he didn't eat. But he'd learned that minty fresh breath seemed more appealing.   
Water gurgled down the drain. Tonkeshin spat, rinsed and dried his face on a towel. He entered the kitchen and helped himself to a few gulps of bottled water.   
At that moment, he heard the clock on the counter state, "The time is now seven forty-five."   
"Egads!" Tonkeshin shoved the water bottle back into the fridge. He trailed the table with one hand until he'd cleared the kitchen.   
Chains rattled as Tonk unlocked the front door. He reached to the right for his briefcase and, more importantly, his long, white cane. He held his briefcase under one arm while he located the locks with his thumb and pushed the key into each one, grumbling to himself about so many locks.   
Sometimes he hated living in his cheap little fifth-floor apartment. Due to repeated robberies downstairs, more locks were installed on all the doors. At least he didn't need six different keys just to enter his own home!   
A few minutes later found Tonkeshin walking briskly down the street. His cane swung gently ahead of him in an arc slightly wider than his shoulders. Its movement was as unconscious as breathing, yet it kept him informed of his environment.   
Being a Namek AND blind didn't bode well for blending into a crowd. Green skin, fangs, pointed ears, antennae and hairless, protruding eyebrows did seem a little imposing. Adding a white cane to the mix only made people stare more. Especially since he'd been told his eyes seem perfectly normal from the outside and he didn't wear sunglasses(often, anyway). His gaze was always forward and alert. He felt like gawkers followed him whenever he passed an area of heavy foot traffic. Lacking sight didn't bother him in the least - he was born that way. It was the reactions of other people that drove him crazy. How ignorant could the world get? He was blind, not helpless!   
Tonkeshin's mouth quirked into a half-smirk. He wondered why people asked him if he 'saw black'. What was black anyway? Tonk saw _nothing_. He was as conscious of _nothing_ as a sighted person was about not seeing out the back of their head. That explanation usually made people bug off.   
He breezed past a morning diner. Eggs, pancakes and many flavors of coffee assaulted his nose. Somebody was smoking a cigarette outside the door. High heels clicked on the sidewalk ahead. Shopping bags rattled. A child sneezed. Wisps of sound reached him through buildings with open doors, some blasting him with warm air. Hovercars whizzed by overhead. A bicycle buzzed around the corner.   
Click-tap. Click-tap. Clank!   
Tonkeshin's cane located a large metal-framed object sitting in his path. Probably an abandoned shopping cart. He wove around it without missing a beat.   
"The light's green!" A female voice told him when he stopped at a curb.   
"Thanks, I'll wait for the next one." Tonkeshin knew the light was already stale. It stayed green for forty seconds. Twenty had passed, if he counted right. Better to wait for the next one. He pulled his cane in and stepped back from the curb so people waiting to turn could do so.   
Slowly the traffic moving across his path stopped. Engines on his left began to move. Tonkeshin waited one second more and stepped off the curb. Gasoline fumes ripped away the fresh morning air. He sneered slightly. Suddenly his cane hit cement. He automatically swept the curb once, then stepped up and continued on his way.   
Grass on the right. Tonkeshin let his cane touch it each time he swung it on that side. Shorelining, sometimes that technique saved him from being hopelessly lost. The grass lasted an entire block. It ended abruptly, but a fire hydrant on his left and brick wall with an alley on the right marked the corner. He worked in the building just beyond the alley.   
Satan City Radio Station. From what Tonk knew, it was a large rectangular structure with an antenna on top. Now if he could just convince people that _his_ antennae didn't pick up radio signals. . .   
Tonkeshin pulled the heavy door open and stepped inside. It was cooler in the building. Coffee, bagels, a "band-aid" smell and various different personal scents replaced the fresh morning air. His ears picked up the chorus of mumbled greetings sent his way amidst typing fingers and ringing telephones. The hello's were returned in kind.   
"Tonkeshin!" Footsteps raced towards him. "Thank Heavens you're here! We need somebody to cover for Lei! He was supposed to be doing the eight o'clock broadcast and he didn't show. You think you can do it?"   
"Me?" Tonkeshin's mouth went dry. His nerves instantly jumped into hyper-drive. He felt like everyone was staring at him. Several seconds passed before he remembered he could speak. "Mr. Latte...you're asking me?"   
Old Spice cologne edged closer. Mr. Latte's light southern pipes broke in, "We need someone in good voice this morning. Think you can manage until ten? Cappa and Cheeno will take over after that."   
Tonkeshin didn't see what was so special about his smooth baritone voice. It wasn't unique among the males on the planet. But the idea of taking the mic both excited and unnerved him. What if he messed up?   
And one more problem needed attention.   
"Okay...but I'll need everything I'm supposed to say embossed."   
"Greg, get on it!" Mr. Latte's tone suggested a smile, "Tonkeshin, get your green butt into the studio!"   
Tonkeshin swallowed a gasp. He turned his face and eyes towards his boss's voice, "Yes, sir. But why are you asking me, if I may ask?"   
He startled when a beefy hand suddenly clapped on his shoulder. Mr. Latte laughed, "Because you don't mumble."   
"Oh." Tonk slipped free and fumbled his way into the studio seat. His briefcase found a home near his feet. He groped for the cool metal microphone stand and drew it a little closer. _I can't believe I'm about to broadcast...please if this is a dream, don't let me wake up now!_   
The soundproof door opened with a soft hiss. Tonkeshin inclined his head to the faint noise. He heard thick paper slap the tabletop, followed the scent of coconut hand cream.   
"There, it's all in braille for ya."   
Tonkeshin smiled crookedly at the friendly alto voice. "Thanks a lot, Carol." He closed one eye, "Lookin' good, by the way. Keep using that cream."   
"You would know, wouldn't you?" Carol teased back, laughing. "Mr. Latte said your earphones will ping you once when you're on air and twice when you're going off. Enjoy the hot seat!" The door groaned shut.   
"Thanks, I sure will," Tonk eased the heavy earphones over his smooth head. He placed his left hand on the first embossed line and let his right index finger glide quickly over the raised dots with soft swish-swish noises. His left hand dropped down to keep his place when he reached the second line. Years of experience made him a quick reader, as fast as anyone reading print. He mouthed each line as he read it, ensuring he got everything before -   
_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!_   
Too soon! Tonkeshin forced a silent breath to calm his nerves. He just prayed to Porunga that his voice wouldn't shake. His tapered digits were slightly sweaty and stuck to the dots instead of passing smoothly over them. He shifted his fingers back up to the first line anyway and read aloud, "Good morning, you're listening to SC one - zero - three - point - five. I'm Tonkeshin, in for Lei Xing. It's now eight o'clock under clear skies. Expect some haze by late afternoon. Temperature highs are expected to be in the upper eighties today. Currently it's sixty-three degrees in Nikki Town, North City checks in with fifty-nine and it's sixty-four degrees here in Satan City. Now let's get this hour going with _Our Champion_ by the Tossed Salad Group."   
_Beeeeeeeep! Beeeeeeeep!_   
Soft rock music started playing. The ballad about how Mr. Satan beat Cell. That song was probably ten years old and still a hit.   
Tonkeshin sighed and sagged back in the chair. That didn't seem too bad for his first time on the air. He might have done better with more warning.   
Just when he was getting the hang of things, ten o'clock rolled around. He groaned silently at the heavily accented female voices entering the booth with him. Cappa and Cheeno just weren't his cup of tea. They talked over the beginnings and endings of songs and bantered until the commercials started. He listened to the radio for news and music, not stupid blabber.   
He surrendered his seat so the girls could take over. And what thanks did he get? Someone's hand shoving his cane and briefcase at him.   
"Uh, thanks, ladies." Said Tonkeshin dryly.   
"You're welcome!" One of them replied. Cappa and Cheeno sounded too much alike for him to tell them apart.   
Tonk exited the sound booth without another word. He walked to his rightful spot at the front desk to do his original job - answering the phones and forwarding calls. Any elation he felt earlier stayed locked behind the glass door with Cappa and Cheeno.   
The computer beeped as he flicked it on. A robotic screen-reader vocalized the name of each program as it opened. Tonkeshin flipped through the selections until he located his email. "So much for being famous." He brightened, "Oh well, maybe next time."   
"You have...four...new messages in your inbox." The computer read aloud.   
Tonkeshin hit the tab key and listened to the titles of each message. Two were from people who sent song requests to the wrong address. The third required just a simple 'yes' reply.   
He paused at the last one. Forced the computer to read it again.   
It was an ad for the World Martial Arts Tournament.   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: So that introduces my original character into the universe. I'm blind myself so I made my character blind. I like everyone's descriptions of Piccolo, so I made Tonkeshin a Namek. Saiyajins are so overused anyway, in my humble opinion. I also figured that writing this story from Tonkeshin's perspective might give others some idea of what life is like without sight(I really can't write any other way laughs). I hope you like it.


	2. 2

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
2   
  
Playing cards flopped down onto the kitchen table, making soft pat-pat noises. Tonkeshin sought the braille label on the upturned card nearest to him. A four - the suit didn't matter.   
"I have a six." Greg's tenor voice came from across the table.   
Tonkeshin turned the other card over and discovered a three. "Hit me."   
"Sure thing."   
Flop went another card. Tonkeshin's fingertips located the number. This time he held a Jack. He smirked to himself and waited while Greg dealt a few cards to himself.   
Greg slapped his hand down. "Damn, I busted again! You play some mean Blackjack, Tonk! You beat me all through high school and college! I never win, ya bum. Are you looking at the cards or something?"   
Tonkeshin faced the voice and grinned toothily, "I didn't peek, I swear!" He held a hand up and wiggled his fingers, "Pay up."   
"Green bastard." The voice carried a smile behind it. Something papery slid onto Tonkeshin's palm, slightly crumpled from being wadded up. "It's a twenty, just so you know."   
Tonk nodded, his antennae flopping gently up and down. He folded the twenty into fourths and inserted it into his wallet. Folding money made keeping track of it easier than the paperclip method. He kept ones open, folded the fives once vertically, folded the tens horizontally and the twenties into fourths. He never carried anything bigger than a twenty.   
"You'll win someday, just keep practicing," said Tonkeshin in a friendly, yet mocking tone.   
Greg's chair creaked. "Now what's the real reason you invited me here? You never ask me to come over just for cards, there's always something else going on. You've been acting like your brain is somewhere else all day. I've never seen you so out of it."   
"Well. . ." Tonk was waiting for this to come up, "I got an ad for the World Martial Arts Tournament in my email today. I'd like to go to this one."   
"What's the fun in going to a tournament you can't see?"   
A thin smile stretched Tonkeshin's lips. He rested his chin on his fist, his eyes staring down towards the table. "I'm not going as a spectator."   
Greg emitted a sharp gasp. The chair creaked again, louder than last time. Tonk just hoped it wouldn't break under his rotund guest's weight. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! How can you compete? You're blind! Those guys will knock the stuffing outta you."   
The bubble of elation in Tonkeshin's stomach flipped over and sank. His hand dropped from his chin. He faced the sound of his friend's breathing and scowled. "I'm not that helpless, Greg! I thought you knew me better than that."   
He softened and went on, "Nobody ever treated me like I was helpless when I was little. I was taught the alternative skills I needed to get along on my own and then sent out to join my brothers. I did everything they did. That includes learning how to fight."   
"Yeah. . .but - "   
"But what?" Tonkeshin's smooth voice gained a hard edge. His natural frown deepened.   
Air puffed out through Greg's nose. "Sorry. . .so why do you need me?"   
"Well," Tonk quirked his mouth into a smirk, "Someone has to read the airport signs and make sure I find the right gates. But don't worry, it isn't for three months. I'm gonna take some time off to train for it. I think my skills need some brushing up anyway. If you can't do it, you have plenty of time to bow out. I'll just harass someone else."   
Long silence followed. Silence of the pondering kind.   
"Fine, I'll do it. Somebody that knows braille should come along, right? You might need something embossed." Greg chuckled under his breath, "So maybe this is why God struck my dad blind. To prepare me for dealing with the likes of you."   
"Hah!" Tonkeshin searched the table, gathered the cards up and neatly shuffled them. "Poor you. I put you through too much."   
Two greasy potato chips nailed him square in the face. More crunched between Greg's teeth, muffling his voice. "You wish. C'mon, deal."   
"Ack! All right, geez." He felt the cards shift in his hands and dealt them accordingly.   
Sleep didn't come easy to Tonkeshin that night. His mind wouldn't stop drifting to the tournament. What did it feel like? Smell like? Sound like? Was it a huge arena or a small, secluded place inside a dojo?   
When slumber refused to come, Tonkeshin got up again. Writing out his thoughts always settled his mind. He headed into the living room and prodded the couch for his slate and stylus.   
The slate was a simple device - two pieces of aluminum joined by a hinge. Four lines of twenty eight braille cells were cut out of the top, and their outlines were stamped into the bottom so the dots wouldn't become holes. To use it, Tonkeshin simply fitted a piece of heavy braille paper between the pieces and used the stylus(a tool resembling a drawer handle with a nail stuck out the end) to punch the proper dots into the page. Just one catch: he had to write backwards so the patterns faced the right way when the paper was turned over. It was like mirror writing, yet simpler. Tonkeshin wrote this way as fast as a person using a pencil. Maybe even a little faster, since braille had contractions for whole words and word-parts.   
An hour and four pages later, Tonkeshin experienced his first yawn. His mind was finally emptied of its wild thoughts.   
_Back to bed. . ._   
He felt like he'd scarcely closed his eyes when the alarm woke him five hours later. Sleep still hung heavily over him, so he took a cold shower to wake up. He rushed through the rest of his morning routine(sucking on a breath mint since he forgot to buy toothpaste on the way home) and hurried the short distance to his workplace.   
Tonkeshin wound up removing his tie at the office because he grabbed the wrong one without realizing it. The guys he worked with got a laugh from it. Just like the time he wore orange socks with his gray suit. Of course, Tonk didn't "get" why a periwinkle tie didn't go with a black suit or why orange socks didn't match his gray one. Color was the one thing his mind just could not imagine.   
Luckily he kept two ties, one black and one white, and a pair of white socks in his desk just in case. Everyone said those colors went with practically anything. Changing his tie took less than two minutes, though he didn't really pay attention to which one he donned. Nobody commented on it.   
". . .so I need to take three months off to prepare for it." Tonkeshin explained quietly in the safe confines of Mr. Latte's cool office, which smelled like new leather and fresh coffee. He held the handle of his cane tightly in his fist like a long dagger. Apprehension made his mouth feel hot and sticky.   
His suspicions about the coffee were confirmed when Mr. Latte poured some into his mug. A coffee maker hissed and the pot rattled back into its cradle.   
The silence became disturbing. Why didn't the man answer? Was he giving an odd stare? Was he secretly laughing? Did he plan on laying him off?   
The boss's chair shifted on squeaky wheels. He didn't sound overly pleased. "That's quite a vacation you're asking for, buddy. I'll only be able to pay you for one of the three months you'll be taking off. Think your finances can handle that?"   
Tonkeshin loosened the death grip on his cane. He jiggled the leather handle with his fingertips. "Yes, I've never done anything expensive since I moved into my apartment, and the rent's cheap. I don't have to buy food and rarely use anything electrical except for my computer and washing machines. My bills are always pretty low. I can afford it, Mr. Latte. I wouldn't embark on this journey if I didn't think my money would hold up. Please, let me do this."   
He was thankful Mr. Latte didn't rebuke him like Greg did. That didn't make asking for the time off any easier.   
Mr. Latte's pen scribbled something down. More choking silence. Tonkeshin gazed blankly across the room, his pointed ears straining to catch the slightest sounds. Even then, he jumped when a piece of paper was suddenly ripped off its tablet. The chair squeaked again and Mr. Latte's footsteps approached.   
"This is the check for the month's pay. You can cash it now, or save it for a rainy day. I want to make one thing clear, though. I'm only doing this because you have a decent record here. You're always on time and don't hang around the water cooler too much. That better not change when you get back from your tournament."   
Tonk stretched a hand out to receive the rectangular piece of paper. His left hand was sore from gripping the cane so tightly. He switched it to his right, the one he used to swing it, and smiled. Relief almost swept his knees out from under him.   
"I promise it won't, sir." Tonkeshin exhaled, "I might come back a little beat up if I don't win, but I'll still work just as I did. I swear it."   
"I believe you, kiddo. Now get outta here so I can call up a temp. Don't worry, I'll tell them not to move anything in your work area."   
Tonk quivered like a bird in search of freedom. He wanted to start training NOW! "Thank you very much. See you in three months!"   
In his excitement, he forgot the door was shut and didn't use his cane to check. He found it with his face.   
"Oof!"   
"Of course. . .you won't have that problem. I hope," commented Mr. Latte.   
A little embarrassed, Tonkeshin felt for the doorknob and slipped through without another word.   
Click-tap, click-tap, click-tap!   
He could barely keep his cane in rhythm as he exited the building. Forcing himself to walk normally, he didn't disguise the grin spreading across his sharp lips. _Finally, I can prove I'm just as capable as everyone else._   
A whiff of mint brought his mind back to Earth. He stopped in his tracks. "Toothpaste. Gotta get some toothpaste." 
>>> 
>>> Warm sand oozed between Tonkeshin's long toes. His ever-sweeping cane created zig zag patterns that his feet quickly erased. The ocean bombarded him with cool spray, a salty scent and soft swooshing sounds. He knew the sun was shining by the warmth on his bare skin. Clad in nothing but swimming shorts and a tight wifebeater, with shoes in hand, the ocean in his ear and sand between his toes. . .he wondered if he just discovered Heaven.   
Of all the places on Earth, Tonkeshin loved beaches the most. The sea always enchanted him. It felt like velvet rushing over his feet and around his ankles. Sometimes he walked a little too close and the water rose to his knees. He wasn't perfect at judging distance by sound. The ocean was tricky.   
Tonkeshin sat down near a large rock jutting out over the water. He folded his cane, drew his knees to his chest and turned his face towards the fine mist that billowed up each time a wave crashed. "Ahhh...perfect way to cool off without getting soaked."   
With a sigh, he let his mind drift back to the past. To the days when he asked every warrior in his village for battle training. Only one had enough patience for him. He was the Namek Tonkeshin looked up to all his life.   
His name was Nail.   
Tonkeshin remembered Nail well. His gentle, patient voice. The careful hands that manipulated his body through the many motions of fighting, and later came back to strike him down during lessons. He even remembered the time when Nail let him touch his face and see what he looked like. That memory made Tonk smile.   
_"I want to look like you when I'm grown, Nail!" Tonkeshin's unchanged voice trilled happily. He kept his hand on Nail's leathery face to feel his expression change, "That way everybody will know I'm strong!"_   
_ Nail's hand patted Tonk's shoulder. The other Namek's breath felt warm and moist against his cheek. The sharp cheekbone under his palm rounded as a smile formed, "We'll find out in a few years."_   
"Heh. . .it's been so long since we last met, Nail. I hope you're happy, wherever you are." Tonkeshin directed a smile at the sky. "I'm going to make you proud!"   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: That wraps up another chapter. Don't worry, you'll see the Z guys pretty soon! Sorry I take so long, it takes my ideas a while to congeal in my mind. 
>>> 
>>> I'm not messing with canon here, by the way. Tonkeshin doesn't know Nail fused with Piccolo. Just letting you all know so you don't get confused. smile


	3. 3

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
3   
  
Dozing off wasn't Tonkeshin's intention, but it happened anyway. Something about the warm sunlight, the soft sand and the sound of the ocean always lulled him to sleep. He could've easily slept the whole afternoon away.   
Then a volleyball bounced off his head. Startled into awareness, Tonk sat bolt upright.   
"Sorry!" A young man's voice called. "Could you toss that back?"   
Getting annoyed would be easy. But Tonkeshin knew it was an accident.   
"Sure!" He climbed to his knees and swept the sand with his hands until he encountered the rough, hard ball. "Say something else so I can aim, okay?"   
"No problem." The first voice called.   
A second voice, slightly rougher than the first, joined in, "Just toss it straight ahead!"   
Tonkeshin overhanded the ball towards the voice. His sharp ears picked up the slap of hands against the round object. He nodded to himself and combed the sand again until he found his flip-flops and cane.   
Brief silence fell when the cane made its presence visible. Tonk knew it all too well, and ignored it. He waited quietly for the questions to start flying.   
And they did. Just not the questions he expected.   
"Hey!" The first voice moved a little closer. "You're not Dende or Piccolo. . .so who are you? How long have you been here on Earth?"   
Tonkeshin faced the voice in surprise. Dende was on this planet?!   
"Uh. . ." Tonk wasn't sure which question to answer first. He had no idea who this Piccolo was, but he remembered Dende. They lived in the same village back on Namek before Freeza blew it up. The little guy was a few years younger than him, but nobody could tell. Tonk was an early bloomer, fighter-types always were, so everybody told him he looked way older than his healer and farmer-type brothers. "My name is Tonkeshin, I'm the ninety-eighth child of Saichirou-sama. I was wished here with my brothers when Freeza destroyed Namek. I chose to stay because I wanted to explore this new world and learn what life is like here. And I love it so far, it's great!"   
The light, innocent voice cut in, "Did you lose your eyesight because of Freeza?"   
"Goten! That's not a polite question!" Snapped the rougher one.   
"No, it's all right," Tonk laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "I was born blind."   
He wiped some sand off his legs and went on, "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours."   
Feet shifted around. A strong hand grabbed his and pumped it eagerly up and down, startling him a bit. The first voice spoke, "Sorry about that. I'm Goten! It's nice to meet you, Tonkeshin!"   
"Don't mind him, he just gets excited easily," said the second, rougher voice. "I'm Trunks, by the way."   
Tonk nodded towards them, smiling. "Pleasure's mine. If you don't mind. . .please tell me why Dende is here. I'd like to know."   
"He's Earth's Guardian now!" Goten tittered from the left, bouncing the volleyball audibly between his hands. Tonkeshin faced him as the voice went on. "See, a long time ago, this mean guy named Cell almost destroyed the planet. But Piccolo rejoined with the original Kami to become more powerful. We needed someone to reactivate the Dragonballs, so Goku went to Namek and got Dende. Goku is the one who beat Freeza on Namek, by the way."   
So this Piccolo person was also a Namek. Tonkeshin nodded slowly, taking the story in. "Saichirou-sama always said Dende would be something special."   
"Yeah, well, I guess he was right." Trunks added softly. He sounded like he wasn't sure how he should act.   
Gripping his long cane in one hand, Tonk tapped a button on his watch. It spoke the time out loud. Almost four o'clock.   
"Egad! I'm really sorry, but I have to go. I intended to start training for the Tournament and wound up dozing the day away. Looks like it's gonna be a late night for me."   
Which was true. He needed to dig out his old clothes from Namek, prepare his essentials for the trip in advance and look up the hotels on the island where the Tournament would be taking place. If he arrived a few days before the actual event, he'd have time to learn most of the layout and wouldn't waste time fumbling around. He'd also be free to enjoy the scenery, visit the shops and explore. Greg might enjoy that, too.   
So much to do!   
Goten sputtered, "You're gonna - OOF!" An impact, probably an elbow to the gut, cut him off.   
"Nice meeting you, Tonkeshin." Trunks cut in. "We'll let you get on your way."   
"Likewise." Tonk nodded to the voices, "Excuse me."   
More feet shuffled as the two teenagers moved aside. Tonkeshin stepped between them. His sharp ears picked up excited whispering.   
He ignored it.   
Sand became gravel. His swinging cane went from making fit-fit noises to tap-tap. The rough, hot substance crackled under his sandals. He strolled all the way across the walkway and used the cement lip on the other side as a shoreline. The street leading into the city started where the lip ended.   
Cool sea breezes dissipated the heat on his face and neck. Tonkeshin drank it in like a plant absorbing water. The lip ended. He swept his cane around the corner and turned, shaking the last bits of sand off his body.   
_Dende is on this planet. . .apparently this Piccolo lives here as well. I wish I knew where to find them._ Tonk sighed. He pushed the thoughts from his head. "Quiet, you. Focus on what's important." 
>>> 
>>> Steaming hot spray poured down over Tonkeshin's head and neck. He stood with his back to the showerhead, letting the hot water massage him. Taking a hot shower always settled him down when he felt too wired to think. It drowned everything else out.   
He located the soap and started scrubbing every inch of himself. The suds tickled their way down his muscular body.   
Soap splashed into his eye. Tonk winced at the sting. He directed the spray at his face to wash it out, finished rinsing and touched the wall until his hands located the handles. Three twirls in opposite directions turned the water off. He heard a steady dripping, then nothing else.   
A silent stillness, profound as the shower's roar, settled. It made Tonkeshin's ears ring.   
He leaned forward, rested his hands flat on the wall and hung his head. Droplets spilled off his antennae, nose and chin. _My entering the Tournament is getting all the wrong attention. Everybody's focusing on me being blind instead of ME. Was this all a mistake? I won't be able to stand it if I get nothing but pity when I show up there. I want to be famous because I fought well, not because my eyes don't work! There is much more to me than that._   
Tonkeshin's thin lips curved into a smile. He lifted his head and stared vacantly at the wall in front of him. His natural frown lifted slightly. "I'll show them just how 'helpless' I really am. Heh, heh!"   
Climbing from the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and crossed the hall to his bedroom. The towel went flying a second later, leaving him with a bare butt. He threw on a pair of silk boxers and walked back out. Trailing the wall until his fingers located the hallway closet door.   
Old, familiar scents reached him. Tonkeshin's probing fingers encountered a thin wooden stick with finger-sized grooves carved in one end. The first cane he ever used. Painfully short, barely half the length of the one he used now, but it worked perfectly when he was little. He pulled it closer and ran his hand lovingly down the length of the age worn object. The grooved part was still pretty smooth and in great condition, the other end felt beat up and "battle-scarred" from use.   
Certain objects were to Tonkeshin what photographs are to sighted people. They each held special memories. He became upset if he discovered a treasured object to be damaged, broken, or worse, missing.   
And the wooden stick in his hand held many hardships, laughter and bouts of curiosity that got him into trouble.   
Lians, the blind elder that taught him his alternative skills, made the cane for him with his own two hands and showed him how to tap it across his path when he walked. Armed with the cane, Tonkeshin remembered chasing his brothers around the village. Sometimes the games went too far and they trampled somebody's garden. He fondly remembered how he, Dende and Cargo would point at each other every time, so all three had to be punished. Spreading stinky fertilizer over the Ajisa seeds so they grew was _not_ a pleasant experience. Yet he and the other two wound up doing it almost every other week!   
The next object Tonkeshin discovered was what he sought - his old Namekian clothing. Even after all these years, they still smelled clean.   
He removed the garments from the hanger and donned them. His outfit was just like Nail's, right down to the colors.   
_They still fit. Awesome!_   
A full-length mirror hung inside the closet door. Tonkeshin poked the cool glass curiously with a long finger and wondered if the person reflected back at him looked just like his mentor. Passing a hand over his own face didn't give him much info, the tactile feedback from both surfaces made exploring his features pretty difficult. He was pretty sure he had the sharp jaw and defined cheekbones common to fighter-types.   
He smiled and undressed again, hanging the precious clothing back up. The wooden cane found its home again against the wall just inside the door.   
Tonkeshin headed to his bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans. Then he slipped into his favorite shirt, which was made of satin with a Mandarin collar and several loops instead of button-holes. Donning it required much patience and steady hands. It was the only satin shirt he owned, so he knew it was red without checking the braille label. Red sounded like a nice color, so he called it his "favorite".   
Now that he knew his old clothes still fit, he was free to go online and check out those hotels. The packing could wait until morning. But before he could get to his computer, the phone rang. Tonk smashed his knee on the coffee table in his haste to answer it.   
"Argh! Hello?"   
"You smashed your knee on the coffee table again, didn't you?" Greg's voice answered. Static in the background suggested a cell phone.   
"What gave you the first clue?" Tonk rubbed the sore spot with his free hand.   
A snorted laugh. "Argh! Hello?"   
"Wrong pitch, buddy," snickered Tonkeshin. "So what's going on?"   
"Well." Something plunked in the background. "I just pulled up outside your building. You better brace yourself, there's a reporter and a camera getting ready to raid the place. Looks like Mr. Latte had a little chat with the press after you left yesterday morning."   
That made Tonk groan and flop facedown onto the couch. "Thanks for the warning. Are you gonna come up?"   
"Yeah, I'll be there in a few. Hey Tonk, you should let 'em interview you. Let the world see you and make its own judgment."   
"Oh, sure!" Tonkeshin laughed heartily, "After the interview, I just know they're gonna add on a bunch of 'oh isn't he brave?' speeches. I can just hear it now. It'll be more cliché than a cheesy romance novel."   
Greg burst out laughing on the other end. "All the more reason to turn the news on and check the morning paper tomorrow. Okay bud, I'm coming up."   
"Right. See you in a few."   
_Click._   
The cordless phone was immediately returned to its cradle. Tonkeshin had the bad habit of leaving it where he last used it. That didn't make finding it in a hurry very easy. Afterwards, he dumped himself back onto the couch and put a pillow over his face.   
Someone pounded on the door. "Hey, it's just me!"   
"It's unlocked!"   
Greg's heavy breathing indicated how fast he climbed the steps. The door clicked shut behind him. "I really need to lose some weight. . . anyway, they're gonna be here any minute now."   
"Ugh. I'm getting famous for all the wrong reasons." Tonkeshin lowered the pillow and smiled wryly. He turned his face and eyes towards Greg's panting. "Does my hair look okay? How's my makeup?"   
Greg snorted. "Gee, your lipstick is smeared and your curls are crooked."   
"Thanks a lot. Just the impression I wanted to make." He grinned wider, "Should I hold a tin cup and pencils when I answer the door?"   
"Nah, strip naked and pole dance for them." Greg's footsteps approached the couch. His weight displaced the cushions a little. "Tell them you're a stripper on the side because your day job doesn't pay you enough. See if they put THAT on the nine o'clock news!"   
They both howled with laughter.   
Two minutes later, footsteps approached and someone else knocked on the door. Tonkeshin swallowed hard, stood up and padded over to answer it.   
  
  
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: So ends another chapter. I threw in the little shower and bare butt bit for the ladies. mischievous grin 
>>> 
>>> A friend of mine said that on DBZ, in the scenes with Saichirou(Guru) on Earth, there is a Namek dressed exactly like Nail helping tend to him, and that he had his hands on the Elder's arm when he faded away. That's Tonk. Grin I think it's the perfect way to make him fit into canon without changing anything, and you can always check your tapes to see him for yourself. 
>>> 
>>> By the way, I pronounce "Lians" as "Lee-yans". Just in case someone wonders.


	4. 4

> > >   
  
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
4   
  
Tonkeshin's long, tapered fingers arched on the doorknob. He swallowed and slowly pulled the large door inwards.   
A rich, alto female voice exploded almost as soon as he had the door open, "This is Blaque LeCouriche of Satan City news. Tonkeshin, is it true that you're entering the World Martial Arts Tournament?"   
"Well uh..." Tonk lifted a hand to confirm the microphone's position, "Yes, I'm entering." He was too flustered and unsure of what else to say. "Erm...would you like to come in?"   
"Sure!" Blaque replied sunnily.   
Tonkeshin stepped aside. Three pairs of feet shuffled past him. One with the tap of high heels. Another set creaked, suggesting someone very thin wearing sneakers, and the third told of someone a little on the heavy side. He might have been wrong. Judging someone by their footsteps was never an exact science.   
"Move over," he muttered to Greg. Greg stifled laughter. He happily stood and moved away so the female reporter could seat herself on the couch. Tonk made a mental note to smack Greg later.   
Tonkeshin perched himself neatly on the soft cushions. Someone came from nowhere to pin a small microphone to his collar. The same probably happened for Blaque. Then all became quiet. He knew the camera was rolling without asking.   
"Are we live?"   
Blaque chuckled softly, "No, this will be on the nine o'clock broadcast. It might even be an entire segment."   
Tonk nodded to himself. That made him feel better, if something was live they could always edit out stupid mistakes.   
"Why are you entering the Tournament?"   
"Well," he leaned back and placed an arm over the back of the couch, resting his right ankle across his left knee. "I really don't have any reason other than I want to see what I'm made of. I can fight, one hit isn't going to knock me out or anything."   
"Will your being blind make fighting difficult?" Blaque hedged. She seemed to be struggling with the cushions, which where kind of sagging because of Greg's weight re-shaping them.   
The question made Tonkeshin smile, showing his fangs, "Fighting isn't hard for me. I just use my other senses to tell where my opponent is."   
Blaque rustled some papers, "And how exactly do you do that?"   
_Good grief, how detailed to they want me to get?_ He thought silently to himself. But he kept his smile. "Easy. I just listen for sounds like breathing, rustling clothing or rattling jewelry. If they haven't showered, it's easy to smell them once they start sweating heavily. The only one I'd have more trouble explaining is interruptions in the air around them. You could call it a 'sound shadow'. I can only demonstrate this."   
"Please do, this is very interesting!"   
"Okay. Notice how my voice sounds now. Very clear, right?" Tonkeshin moved a hand up in front of his mouth without completely blocking it off, "Now listen, my voice is a little muffled." He faced the sound of Greg's breathing. "Hey Greg, turn my stereo on and walk past the speaker."   
Greg's thick footsteps crossed the room. Rock music exploded into the room, but not too loud. The sound muffled briefly, then cleared as Greg walked back and forth in front of the speaker. "How's this?"   
"Perfect," Tonk smiled, turning back to Blaque, "Did you hear the difference?"   
"I did! That's amazing," she sounded completely awed. "So you can do that in any situation?"   
He frowned, "Not quite. There has to be some kind of sound. It doesn't work in complete silence. That shouldn't be a problem in the arena, there's always people talking, laughing and making enough noise. In a place like that with noise all around, it won't be quite as easy to pinpoint an opponent's position. But it'll be enough that I'll have a general idea of where they are. . ."   
The rest of the interview was a blur to Tonkeshin. He remembered demonstrating how he read and wrote in braille, surfed the internet, picked out his clothing and walked around with his cane. By the time it was all over, he was in a sullen mood. Slamming the front door never felt so good.   
"Boy, you look like someone took a leak in your cornflakes this morning." Greg commented. He turned the stereo off and approached the couch.   
"I don't eat cornflakes," Tonkeshin grumbled. He trailed the wall with a hand until he entered the kitchen. A nice, cold glass of ice water sounded good right about now. "I can't believe that woman! I just know they're going to paint some glorified picture of how brave I am. I'm not trying to prove anything. I just want to see what I can do."   
Greg hid a laugh by coughing, "It doesn't sound that way when you talk about it."   
Tonk nearly choked on his water. He bared his teeth, a sharp edge entering his otherwise smooth voice, "Oh, come on!"   
"Seriously, Tonk, it does. I think you're just trying to show you're not helpless, but you just don't want to admit it to yourself."   
"I know full well that I'm not helpless." Tonkeshin drained his glass. The cool water soothed his burning throat. He plunked his glass roughly on the slick countertop. "I'm just sick of people focusing on my being blind. That's all the lady asked about - how I did this, that and everything in between. She didn't ask what I liked or hated!"   
He could feel a vein on his forehead starting to pulsate, "In a few hours the whole freaking city is going to know who I am. Tomorrow morning, I'll probably be on the front page of newspapers all over the world! I'll be known as the Brave Blind Guy. Sorry, but I'm entering the Tournament because I want to see how far I can get. If I win, great. If I lose, it'll be because my opponent was a better fighter. It's that blasted simple!"   
"Hey, hey, calm down buddy. All you have to do is show them the real you, that's all." Greg's voice was suddenly in the kitchen. A large hand touched Tonkeshin's shoulder, startling him a bit.   
"Just be polite to the people who recognize you. They'll probably be wishing you luck. If they stare, just train like you're not aware of them. That will show 'em. So what if that reporter focused on what you can't do. Turn around and let the world see what you _can_ do."   
Tonkeshin's anger melted. He never was one to stay mad for long. "You're right. Sorry I blew up."   
Tonk found himself in a headlock with a beefy hand mercilessly rubbing his bald head. Greg chuckled, "Bah! What are friends for?"   
"Ack, hey!"   
"Heh, heh. Listen, it's almost six o'clock. I have to get home. The wife, you know. She probably has dinner ready right now, and my cell will be ringing non-stop if I don't show up soon." Greg let go and Tonkeshin quickly stood up straight.   
"No problem. I'm probably going to leave the TV on so I can listen to the story. Let's see how this Blaque LeCouriche woman tears me up."   
Both laughed at this. Greg gave Tonkeshin's shoulder another pat and then his footsteps thudded to the door.   
Tonkeshin never felt more relieved to finally be left alone. 
>>> 
>>> Just as he and Greg suspected, the news story _was _more cliché than a cheesy romance novel. It was everything Tonk hoped it wouldn't be and then some. He actually turned the segment off because it irked him. The thunder outside matched the dark mood the story put him into.   
"Thanks a lot, Mr. Latte," the Namekseijin grumbled to himself. Putting his head back, he glared up towards the ceiling. "How am I going to go for my warm-up jog tomorrow if people will be yapping at me left and right?"   
Fate seemed determined to hand him setbacks.   
Tonkeshin didn't realize this until he got up to open his window. He instantly noticed the moist scent and familiar patter of rain falling on the cement five stories down.   
He swore under his breath and decided to go read a good book. The thunder grew in volume until a rather violent rumbling made him jump and lose his place on the page. Tonk scanned the braille dots to no avail, his mind hadn't absorbed a single word.   
The phone rang.   
Startled, Tonk flung his book down and made a dash for it. He didn't smash his knee on anything this time, but he did almost drop the phone. "H-hello?"   
"Tonkeshin?" It was Carol's soft alto voice. She sounded terribly upset, her words trembling, "I need your help. Lightning hit the tree above my house and started a fire. Almost everything burned and. . .I have nowhere to sleep. I feel like I can trust you, do you think I could spend one night at your place? The firemen won't even let me in to see what I can salvage until tomorrow."   
His face fell. He wiped his antennae back and let them fall back into place like unruly hair. "Yeah, you can stay here with me. My couch folds out into a bed, so there's plenty of room for you to sleep. Do you know how to get to my place?"   
A loud sigh broke over the phone. Carol replied, "No, I can't say that I do."   
"Okay then. How about the donut shop on Water Street?"   
"I know where that is."   
Tonkeshin nodded to himself. "All righty then. Just turn left at the corner there and you should see the radio station. Go past the alley and turn left again, my apartment building is right there, across the street from the line of shops on Fourteenth Avenue. I'll stand outside and wait for you."   
"Got it." She scraped something in the background, "Thanks, Tonkeshin. I'll see you in a minute."   
"Right. See you in a few. Bye."   
"Bye."   
Tonk settled the phone into its cradle. He heaved a sigh and trudged into his bedroom to change his shirt. Thunderstorms meant wind. Wind meant rain getting under the awning in front of his building. If he was going to get wet, he'd rather not ruin his favorite shirt. Plain old T-shirts were much easier to wash.   
A few minutes later found him standing outside in the rain, clutching his cane and the collar of his trench coat. He stayed under the awning hanging over the glass door in front of his building. His legs were already damp from rain blown violently by the wind. The storm reminded Tonk of the nasty weather back on Namek. Now _those_ were storms!   
Rain actually gave the world a whole new clarity. Tonkeshin could hear and feel where everything was just by listening to how the rain sounded when it hit certain objects. Clanging like cymbals as it battered the mailbox three feet ahead. Pattering mercilessly on the pavement. Gurgling against the awning above. Ringing like metallic footsteps on the many cars passing in the street. Battering the sides of buildings. It painted an audible picture clear enough for him to walk around without his cane if he really wanted to.   
Soft humming from cars on the street and in the air penetrated the perpetual hiss of rain falling. One engine drew closer until Tonkeshin thought he was about to be run over. It cut off a few feet away.   
"Hey, it's just me." Carol spoke from a short distance away. Her car door creaked open and whined shut.   
"Hi, Carol." Tonkeshin faced her voice and nodded his head, "I'm sorry about your house."   
She moved closer to get under the awning, her footsteps splashing in puddles. Cigarette smoke clung heavily to her clothing. Not a pleasant scent, Tonkeshin hated smoke of any kind.   
"I think I can save some of my most precious valuables. But pictures, my clothes and important documents. . .oh God! I don't know what I'm going to do!"   
Tonkeshin frowned, not knowing what to say. He reached out to touch her shoulder. A gesture meant to comfort as well as give him an idea of where she was standing. She was closer than he expected.   
Tonk swept a hand down to the handle and pulled the heavy glass door open. It shrieked on old hinges in dire need of repair. "It's okay. C'mon, let's go inside where it's dry."   
"Thank you," Carol's cigarette-leaden scent slipped past. Tonkeshin didn't pick up so much as a whiff of her usual hand cream. Weird, he never imagined her as a smoker.   
"We'll have to take the stairs. The elevator is always broken."   
A quick trip up five flights wasn't even a workout for Tonkeshin. Carol seemed in good shape as well, save for a slight huffing when they reached his front door. He politely let her in first.   
Rustling around, Carol spoke up from near the wall by the door, "Um, Tonkeshin? Where's the light switch? It's pitch black in here. . ."   
"Oh!" Tonk felt his face grow hot. He laughed, "Sorry, it's behind the door where I put my cane. Here." He folded his cane into fourths, laid it on the little tray jutting from the wall and raised his hand higher to flip the switch. He knew through Greg that the lamp on his coffee table would provide plenty of light for the living room.   
"Ah-ha, that's better." The woman wriggled out of her jacket and hung it up on the doorknob. It practically oozed smoke. At least the rest of her clothing didn't smell. "You have a nice place, Tonkeshin. I can't believe that witch of a reporter interviewed you in here, though."   
"Witch?" Tonk hung his house key on the hook near the lightswitch. He wiggled out of his trench coat and shook the excess water off, then carried it into the hall closet. Returning, he continued, "She seemed polite enough, I suppose."   
"That black-haired bimbo stole my job! I used to do field reports until she muscled in on me! Pretty soon I got stuck doing the stupid stories nobody cares about. Must have something to do with being blonde," Carol's voice shook with indignation, "I got so tired of it that I came to the radio station to do news reports and write up the playlists for the day. Much less stressful."   
Tonkeshin quietly listened to Carol spit fire. He figured she needed a release for all the pent-up emotion. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I wouldn't know a blonde or a brunette if one or the other danced right in front of my face. Blaque sounded nice to me, and so do you."   
Her response? A snort and a cold laugh. "Sure, Tonkeshin. Whatever you say."   
He sighed, "How about I make you some tea and unfold the bed for you?"   
"Um, no thanks on the tea. Water's fine." The couch creaked as she shifted on the cushions.   
Would there ever be a break? Tonkeshin mentally shook his head on his way to the kitchen. He glided his hand over the shelf until he found the spare drinking glass he'd shoved way in the back. It smelled clean, but he ran water through it to be sure. Then he poured her some filtered water from the large water bottle in the fridge.   
"Thanks," Carol accepted the cool water and drank it down quickly. She moved off the couch so he could pull the coffee table aside, kick the cushions off and unfold the bed.   
"Just a sec, lemme get some blankets and softer pillows." Tonkeshin dashed back into the hall for the extra bed supplies he always kept on hand. All piled up on the closet floor, it was easy to pick out what he wanted.   
He could feel Carol's eyes intently watching him make the bed. Sheets first, then the blanket and finally the comforter. He knew the smooth strip on the blanket belonged near the pillows and a tag on the underside of one corner showed him he had the comforter right side up.   
Carol approached. She sat down on the edge of the newly made bed, "I find it amazing that you can do so much without being able to see."   
Tonk wanted to scream that no, he wasn't anything special. He held it in. "Uh, thanks, I think. I make my own bed every day so setting up another one really doesn't take that much brainpower. I could do this in my sleep."   
"I'm sure you could." A soft, rain-chilled hand cupped his cheek. It made Tonk VERY uncomfortable. He didn't know Carol that well and was not fond of being touched so intimately by people he wasn't familiar with.   
"Mm, yeah." He stood up to get away from the unsettling contact. "I um. . . .I need to get some sleep so I can get up early tomorrow. Tons of training to do. Will you be okay on your own?"   
Carol sounded disappointed at him for breaking off. "I'll be fine."   
"Okay. The bathroom is right down the hall on the left if you need it. Feel free to raid snacks from the fridge, they're Greg's, but I can just buy more and he'll never know the difference."   
"Right. Thanks a lot." That disappointed tone still edged into her voice. For the life of him, Tonkeshin couldn't figure out why. What possessed her to lay a hand on his cheek in the first place?   
Females, he'd never figure them out.   
He wasn't sorry to get away from Carol and into the safety of his own bedroom. Stripping to his silk boxers, he left his clothes in a pile on the floor and climbed right into bed.   
The room was silent except for rain pelting the window. Tonk didn't really feel sleepy. He stared vacantly at the ceiling with his hands folded behind his head. Carol touching him like that almost irked him. He still remembered the nasty talk he heard around high school - about how girls who acted like that were looking for sexual intercourse or some other romantic adventure.   
Romance.   
From what he knew it was disgusting.   
French kissing.   
A good way to spread germs. Just thinking about tasting someone else's spit made him gag.   
And sex?   
The idea of pressing himself to another sweaty body made his stomach turn over. Then again, he was asexual and didn't need such contact to reproduce. He remembered Greg trying to explain the concept of "orgasms" to him, but like color, it flitted beyond his understanding.   
He also had a feeling that Carol pitied him. Just like everyone else who saw the news segment would be doing tomorrow.   
Tonkeshin growled and turned onto his side, snarling to himself. He didn't have time for this! Now thanks to the reporter, to Carol and that stupid face-touching thing, his mind was as cloudy as the stormy sky outside.   
_Good grief. . .what next?_   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's Note: I know, boring chapter huh? laughs Well I'm working on character development right now. Otherwise the story will move too fast and I want to look back at it and say 'for a first fic, that was damn good!', rather than cringing in horror and going 'dear God, what an ugly Marty Stu!'. 
>>> 
>>> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite the lack of action. Don't worry, it's coming soon. Thanks to everyone who reviews!


	5. 5

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
5   
  
Carol finally left, turning the apartment into a vault of silence. Tonkeshin never thought he'd get rid of her. Especially after the little face touching incident the night before. Fortunately for him a good night's sleep let him clear his head.   
Tonk, now wearing nothing but his silk boxers, slid into the splits on his living room floor. Stretching first his legs, then his sides and finally his shoulders and arms. He focused on each muscle group at a time, and finished up by rolling into a handstand. He flipped onto his feet and cracked his neck. Nail always told him a good stretch would keep his body loose, limber and open to channel his power. Getting his body limber wasn't the most pleasant experience either. . .   
_"Nail! That hurts!" the young Namek's voice cried._   
_ Nail's hands remained firm around his ankle and behind his knee, pushing his leg down towards his chest. "It is necessary to prepare your body for training. Your muscles must be loose if you ever want to move smoothly in battle."_   
_ Tonkeshin winced again. He wondered if this pain would ever end, or if he'd have to endure this torture for the rest of his life. He wished his leg would hurry up and break off so the agony would stop. "Will it always hurt?"_   
_ "No, it'll hurt less and less each time." Nail eased Tonkeshin's leg down and began on the other. His voice indicated a smile, "You will soon be able to kick higher than your head without a thought. Don't worry, Tonkeshin, I wouldn't teach you anything I didn't think you could do. But always remember. . .stretch before you train and you will become faster, stronger and feel better afterwards. Do you understand?"_   
_ "Yes."_   
"Yes. . ." Tonkeshin snapped back to the present and threw a swift kick that swung higher than his head. A smile curled his mouth upwards.   
The phone rang, snapping him from his reverie. Tonk padded over and lazily picked up the cordless object. "Hello?"   
Greg's voice exploded from the other end, "You let Carol stay at your place?! What is the matter with you?"   
Tonk raised a prominent brow. "What do you mean? Her house practically burned down, she had no place to sleep!"   
"Well I drove by her house to see if she needed help with anything. The roof was barely even burned, and only over the garage. What sob story did she tell you?"   
"Um," He walked towards the fridge and trailed the cold stainless steel door until he found the handle. Yanking it open, he rummaged around for something other than water. For some odd reason he craved lemon flavored iced tea. "She said something about how the whole roof burned and the firemen wouldn't let her in to save her valuables until this morning. And that she lost a lot of important stuff. Anyway, Carol's gone, she left before I got up. Why?"   
Swishing sounds from Greg's end. A scuffing noise often made when someone switched the phone to the other ear. He lowered his voice, "Carol came in to work today saying you gave her the cold shoulder."   
"_What?!_"   
"Dude, what happened over there?"   
It took Tonkeshin nearly a minute to collect his thoughts. He closed his fingers around the bottled tea he wanted and slammed the fridge door. Popping the lid, he took a sip and plunked the bottle down on the counter. "Nothing kissy-kissy happened, if that's what you mean. She watched me fold out my couch and fix it up for her. Then she put her hand on my face. . . I didn't like it, so I stood up and said g'night. I didn't do anything to her that I know of."   
"She thinks you blew her off." Greg snickered, "Tonk, she wants in your pants."   
"I don't have anything in my pants."   
More laughing, "No, no, no. . .she wants to have sex with you!"   
Tonkeshin fell over backwards with his feet in the air, laughing hysterically. He laughed so hard he dropped the phone and had to grope for it when he came back to his senses. Wiping tears from his eyes, he asked, "W-why does Carol want to mate with me? Doesn't she know I have nothing of interest in my pants?"   
"Apparently not." Something creaked in the background. "Listen, she pulled this act on Kreemin, too. I'm warning you, Tonk, Carol Folgers seems to be a typical slut. She'll do anything to get in bed with a guy she gets infatuated with."   
"Lovely. Maybe I should let her find out I don't have what she wants. That would scare her off."   
Greg guffawed, "Yeah, right! Hey, have you started training yet?"   
Tonk gripped the phone tighter, "I was just doing my stretches when you called. Is it still rainy outside? I haven't checked yet."   
"Misty, but the sun should be out this afternoon."   
"Hm, okay." He licked his lips, "Man, I can't believe Carol would turn out to be so twisted. She was always so nice to me. Hey, what does she look like anyway? All I know is she has blonde hair. . .as if that means anything."   
"Oh she's a bombshell. Always showing off her cleavage and legs and wearing tight clothes. Geez, it's always the really pretty ones." Greg exhaled noisily, "I have a feeling Carol thinks she can get any man she wants. Just be careful around her. Now that she knows where you live. . .well, just keep your important stuff locked up or hidden. Don't be surprised if she knocks on your door again."   
Tonk picked up his iced tea and swallowed a few mouthfuls. "Well, I just won't let her in. Besides, I'm a lot stronger than she is. If she tries anything, I can stop her."   
"Mmhmm, sure. You always freeze around girls. Remember Brandi in high school? You stood there like an idiot when she gave you a hug and grabbed your ass at the Halloween dance."   
"Don't remind me of that, okay? Females are a weird species."   
More snickering, "Boy is that true, but don't let my wife hear you say that." Greg clicked a pen in the background. "Well I'm gonna let you go now. I've still got work to do. Be careful if you go jogging. The sidewalks are a tad slippery."   
"Yeah, thanks." Tonkeshin finished his tea. He shoved the empty bottle into the trash chute near the fridge, "Talk to you later."   
"Sure. Bye."   
"Bye."   
Tonk hung up the phone and rubbed a hand over his bald head. His lips twisted sideways. Upset didn't begin to describe how he felt. Carol had always been such a nice person until last night. How could he miss the twisted individual hidden behind that kind voice and pleasant hand cream?   
He shook his head, making his antennae sway. There were more important things to worry about. Like training.   
Tonkeshin exited the kitchen and entered his bedroom. He tossed the clothes from last night into the laundry basket. Then he reached for one of two lycra tracksuits he kept tucked away on the far side of his closet. Tonkeshin sniffed the material, making sure it was clean before he stepped into the pants and pulled the shirt over his head.   
Shoes were last to be donned. Tonk laced them quickly and stood up.   
"Now. . .I can finally get started." 
>>> 
>>> Wet grains crunched under Tonkeshin's shoes as he jogged across the beach. He kept his cane held out ahead, the tip just skimming the sand. He also made sure he did his run near the water, away from where people might set up their towels. It was still chilly out and he wasn't sure if the sun had come out yet or not, so he figured he'd take the safest route.   
Getting to the beach was almost a total nightmare. Like Tonk feared, voices wafted out from all directions to wish him good luck or tell him he was brave. He remained polite by giving a smile or a nod. Otherwise he didn't say much.   
Tonk must've cruised up and down the two mile stretch of beach twenty times. He was coming for another pass when he heard voices up ahead. He slowed to a walk and listened more closely.   
"Hah! You're getting slow!"   
"Shut up, Trunks!"   
"Make me."   
"Just you wait! Hiyaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"   
Two sets of feet scraped around in the sand. A thud as someone fell. The familiar swish of an aura erupting. But these auras had a different sound, almost like a looped, high-speed recording of wet shoes creaking as someone walked. They also felt warmer, stronger than normal auras. Tonkeshin's brow knit as he let this mystery tumble through his mind.   
At least he knew the identities of the two sparring. He remembered their voices from the last time they met. Goten and Trunks, the two teenagers with the volleyball.   
Tonk probably stood there for almost ten minutes straight before the two teenagers finally noticed his presence.   
"Hey, nice to see you again," Goten jogged away from Trunks, "I saw you on the news last night. You're famous!"   
Heat gathered in Tonkeshin's cheeks. He faced Goten's voice and nodded, smiling, "Yeah, but the reporter focused on all the wrong details. I guess that's all they're interested in right now."   
"That reporter was stupid. My mom said she wore way too much makeup." Trunks joined in, suddenly closer.   
"Oh is that so? I didn't notice," snickered Tonkeshin.   
Trunks scuffed his feet in the wet sand, making a grinding noise. "Yup. Even Piccolo and Dende saw it. They were over at my place because we were having my sister's birthday party and - "   
Goten burst in, "Hey! Why don't we take Tonkeshin up to meet Piccolo and Dende right now?"   
Now it was Tonkeshin's turn to feel like an excited little kid. His antennae twitched, "I would love to see Dende again, and I'm excited to meet this Piccolo."   
"Piccolo takes some getting used to. He's not really a people person. But he's cool." Trunks stopped scuffing his shoe and faced a different direction, "You can fly, right? We've gotta fly to get to them."   
Goten just snickered.   
"Huh? Of course I can fly," Tonkeshin frowned, feeling slightly insulted. He folded his long cane and shoved it into his pocket. "I just don't fly alone because I'd get horribly lost. All I need is to follow your powers."   
"Okay, we'll lead you and bring you back here." Goten's light voice came from a little higher up. He was probably hovering a foot off the ground, if Tonk guessed correctly.   
"C'mon." Sand shifted as Trunks lifted off as well, "Ready?"   
Tonkeshin took a breath and pushed his ki energy downwards. He felt the same sensation he experienced whenever he rode an elevator, only there wasn't anything under his feet. A very unnerving feeling - like floating in a void.   
He squished his nerves before they turned against him. "Ready."   
Trunks and Goten sped away. Tonkeshin put a fix on their power vibrations and quickly followed, the wind blowing his antennae back against his scalp. 
>>> 
>>> "Okay, we're coming in for a landing," Trunks called over his shoulder.   
"Gotcha." Taking his cane out of his pocket in mid-air, Tonkeshin let gravity unfold it and clutched it against his chest. By using the same air disturbance trick he demonstrated for the reporter, he got the impression of floating above something massive.   
Goten came up beside him. His voice indicated a smile, "Dende's outside, looking at you. I dunno where Piccolo is. He'll probably come out later."   
"Thanks for letting me know."   
"No problem. See you on the ground!" Goten zipped away, calling, "Trunks and I are gonna spar, just call us when you're ready to go."   
"Sure thing!"   
Tonk just chuckled to himself. He stretched his cane out and descended until the tip met solid ground. Then he lowered until his feet touched down. He checked the area immediately around him. A stone planter on the left seemed to be the only obstacle in the current vicinity. He could tell by the tap of his cane that he was in a large, wide-open area.   
"Tonkeshin! I don't believe this!" Came a very light, friendly tenor voice. Suddenly a hand grabbed his and pumped it up and down, "I heard about you on the news and nearly went beside myself, I thought you went back to Namek!"   
Tonkeshin blinked at the voice. For some odd reason he imagined Dende still as a child, not as the man he heard speaking to him. "Dende?"   
"Yes!" Dende laughed, "I'm full-grown now, in case you didn't notice."   
Tonk stuck a hand out and touched the top of Dende's head. The other Namek stood about chest high to him. "Yeah, last time I saw you, you were barely half my height. Wow! It seems like only yesterday when we were chasing each other in the village. . ."   
"Oh don't remind me. We were always in so much trouble, weren't we?"   
Both of them chuckled out loud.   
"So is it really true?" Tonkeshin took his hand off Dende's bald head and gripped his cane, "You're the planet's Guardian?"   
Embarrassment crept into Dende's tone, "Yes, I am. Heh, it's kind of a long story." He changed the subject, "So you're entering the Tournament?"   
"Mmhmm," Excitement bubbled up in Tonkeshin's belly. He faced Dende more fully and went on, "I got an ad for it in my email at work. . .and well, I just want to see how far I can get."   
"Well, that's one way to do it. Hey, maybe I'll come down and watch." The younger Namek clicked his tongue, "Come on, let's go catch up on old times." 
>>> 
>>> Tonkeshin sat cross-legged on the edge of 'The Lookout' as the others called it. His cane lay unfolded beside him, secured in place by his knee. Staring into space, he toyed with a fuzzy leaf he'd picked off one of the plants. Dende had told him quite a few stories about Cell, Garlic Jr., Babidi and Buu. He'd told Dende all about his job and the friends he'd made. All in all, it turned out to be a great day. Now he was just enjoying a moment alone to think.   
A gust of wind blew the leaf from Tonkeshin's fingertips. He got the strangest feeling that someone was watching him and stood up, cane in hand.   
Tonk swallowed, the sensation becoming way too unnerving for his liking. "Is someone there?"   
A deep, raspy voice replied, "Yes."   
Closer than he expected! Tonkeshin startled and spun towards the sound. "You must be Piccolo."   
"I am," came Piccolo's stoic reply. Something made of heavy cloth flapped in the breeze. "I heard a lot about you last night."   
Nervousness melted away. Tonkeshin allowed himself a half-smile and extended a hand, "Yeah, those news people are trying to paint a glorified picture of me. My life really isn't as different as they make it sound."   
Piccolo's large, strong hand closed around Tonkeshin's and gave it a brief shake. Tonk breathed in slowly. To feel the leathery texture of another Namekian's skin nearly made him long for home again. He also got the strangest feeling that he knew this Namek, even though they just met.   
"Well, Tonkeshin," Piccolo drew his hand back after a moment. He rumbled wordlessly and went on, "If you're entering, I'm going to enter as well. I look forward to seeing just what you can do."   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's Note: GRIN! I've been waiting to write out Tonkeshin meeting Piccolo for a long time. My hands were literally shaking when I typed up the last few lines of this chapter. It's almost like meeting Piccolo in person, I really, really, really hope I do his character justice. Please feel free to point it out if anybody from the show starts acting OOC. 
>>> 
>>> As I've been working on this fic, I've finally figured out exactly who would do Tonkeshin's voice if he was on the show. It would be the same guy that does Kenshin on _Rurouni Kenshin_. Carol would be voiced by Sable from the WWE(World Wrestling Entertainment), and Greg's actor would've been the dearly-departed John Candy.


	6. 6

> > >   
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
6   
  
Tonkeshin's training time was almost up. For months he'd punished his body the same way Nail did when they trained together. He enjoyed every minute of his preparation. When he wasn't training his body, he'd meditate quietly. Pondering his performance in the Tournament, his meeting with Piccolo and wondering why that Namek seemed so gosh-darned familiar.   
At night he often dreamed of the Tournament and woke up excited. The closer the big day came, the more each day dragged. Like time was slowing down to taunt him.   
He staggered into his bedroom after the day's particularly grueling workout. His whole body screamed for rest. But he ignored it for five more minutes to stretch his tired muscles out. He recently discovered a good stretch after training kept his muscles from cramping in the middle of the night.   
"Man. . ." Tonk sat down on the edge of his bed. His stomach gurgled, reminding him of something else. "Maybe I shouldn't have tried that new soda Greg brought me. I really don't see what humans find so funny about 'burping'."   
Reaching out, he tapped a button on his bedside clock.   
"The time is now. . .eleven p.m.." The talking clock announced.   
"Ugh! Okay, fine, I'll go to sleep!"   
Tonk laughed at himself a bit. How crazy he must've looked, talking to a clock. He stood up and located the zipper on his tracksuit jacket. Then he stepped out of his pants and left his clothes where they fell.   
Training allowed his neglected muscles to bulk up a little bit. Tonk knew the difference was visible to sighted people. He could sure feel it when he washed himself in the shower.   
It felt good to be in tip-top shape again.   
Tonkeshin felt around the head of the bed, found the edges of the sheets and pulled them down. The warm, pliable mattress felt too inviting to ignore any longer. He flopped onto his back and stared blankly towards the ceiling. Tomorrow morning, Greg would come over to help him pack. Then they'd leave for the airport.   
"Here's to tomorrow."   
He stretched out under the sheets and closed his eyes. Sleep evaded him for a while, until finally his conscious mind shut off and his subconscious came alive. 
>>> 
>>> _ Freeza and Nail's power readings both stopped on the island ten miles away from Saichirou's cliff top home. Tonkeshin dropped the pails of water in his hands and raced back to the lake where he left his wooden cane._   
_ He followed the scent of water until he reached the lake. A quick sweep over the dirt found the smooth, hard wooden object._   
_ "I'm coming, Nail!"_   
_ The teenaged Namek blasted skyward. He flew with his eyes closed so the violent wind wouldn't dry them out. All he cared about was reaching his teacher. The closer he drew to the fight, the more dread he felt building in his stomach._   
_ Freeza's power flared. Then it took off, heading south. Nail's power was dying. Shrinking away like melting ice on someone's palm._   
_ Tonkeshin landed too quickly. He lost his footing and felt dirt scrape all over his chest and elbows. "Nail? Teacher?"_   
_ A soft moan sounded from the left. Tonk shuffled in that direction on the uneven dirt, sometimes tripping over stones. His short wooden cane soon touched something. He dropped it and knelt down to pick up a heavy leather object. Nail's vest._   
_ Tonk donned the garment over his own for safekeeping. He picked up his cane and continued forward, guided by Nail's labored breathing._   
_ His mentor's patient voice called weakly, "Tonkeshin. . .what are you doing here?"_   
_ Tonkeshin knelt down. He reached out towards Nail's voice and encountered the warm roundness of his bald head. It was wet and jagged, the skin torn. Tonk touched a finger to his lips and tasted the coppery flavor of blood. A knot formed in his throat._   
_ "I felt your power drop and came to help you fight Freeza." He turned his face and eyes towards his beloved teacher, "Come on, let's get you to a healer."_   
_ "Unh. . .I'll be dead before we find one." Nail gurgled, "You have to get. . .get away from here. Mmh. Nobody can beat Freeza. . .unh. . .he's too strong."_   
_ Tonkeshin felt Nail's large, strong hand close around his. He squeezed it fiercely. "Don't die, Nail!"_   
_ Nail returned the squeeze, "You must leave me. . .mmh. . .the Earthlings are going to summon Porunga to wish their friend back. Unh. . .this is their fight now. Saichirou will soon die and the Dragonballs. . .they will go with him. I hope the Earthlings can. . .ungh. . .mm. . .make their wish in time."_   
_ "Then let me stay here with you! You shouldn't have to die alone like this," Tonkeshin pleaded with his teacher. Stinging tears formed in the corners of his eyes._   
_ "Tonkeshin," Nail's long fingers released their grip. Tonkeshin felt them come to rest on his shoulder. Nail remained silent for a moment, gasping for air, "I have taught you. . .everything I know. You've made me so proud."_   
_ "That doesn't mean I don't need you anymore!"_   
_ Nail chuckled softly, despite the obvious pain it caused him. His breaths sounded shallower and his voice came out weaker, "I'll, unh! still be there. . .to answer your questions. Whenever you doubt yourself. . .think of what I would say. Let that be your guide."_   
_ Tonkeshin clenched his teeth together as bitter tears found their way onto his cheeks. He stretched a hand out and traced the familiar shape of Nail's face._   
_ The ridges above his eyes were swollen and damp, and his antennae drooped lifelessly. His nose oozed internal fluids. One cheek felt swollen, the fine bone underneath shattered. Even his mouth was torn and his broken jaw seemed unfamiliar. Tonk wanted to see his teacher's face one more time, but now he wished he hadn't. He didn't want to remember him like this!_   
_ "You have to go now. . .please, Tonkeshin. Someone has. . .unh. . .has to guard Saichirou. Please. . .I don't want you to watch me die like this."_   
_ Tonk bowed his head and sighed. Violent anger and intense sadness clenched his throat shut. He could barely speak, "Only if you promise to send me a telepathic goodbye when your moment comes."_   
_ His teacher's warm fingertips raised up to wipe the tears off his cheeks. "I give you my word."_   
_ Tonkeshin choked back a sob. The ache in his chest became unbearable. "I'll never forget you, Nail."_   
_ He felt a strong hand grip his arm and squeeze. The undamaged cheekbone under his fingertips rounded. Tonkeshin knew Nail was smiling at him. That familiar smile he remembered touching the first time he looked at Nail's face._   
_ That was how he'd remember him. Smiling at his own fate._   
_ Nail's hand withdrew. He didn't speak again, but he was still breathing._   
_ Tonkeshin stood up. His fist tightened around his wooden cane, which he secured to his belt. He turned away from Nail and took to the air._   
_ But he didn't head for Saichirou's house._   
_ "I'm sorry, Nail, but I can't let Freeza go unpunished for hurting you."_   
_ Locating Freeza's massive power wasn't hard. To Tonkeshin it was as obnoxious as someone whistling. He knew he'd feel a little better once he terminated the annoyance._   
_ The strong power stopped a ways off. Tonkeshin heard a raspy, effeminate voice mumble, "The sky, it's black. I don't like this!"_   
_ Tonkeshin gathered his courage. He had no idea about Freeza's size, weight or agility. All he knew was that monster left his mentor dying in the dirt. He wanted revenge._   
_ Speeding up, he snarled, "You won't like this either! AAAAHHH!"_   
_ "Huh?!"_   
_ Tonk's fists bounced off something metallic. Pain startled him. The hard thing didn't even budge! He swung again and hit empty air._   
_ Freeza's voice came from the right, "Stupid Namek! I don't have time to deal with you!"_   
_ "You'd better make time, Freeza!"_   
_ Tonkeshin charged towards Freeza's angered breathing. Again, his fist hit something solid. A torso this time. And again, it didn't move. It felt like hitting solid metal!_   
_ A tiny, smooth hand gripped his throat and squeezed his Adam's apple. "Oh my, you really are spunky. Just like that other Namek I left for dead. Heh, you even dress like him. Well if you've seen one Namek, you've seen them all, I suppose."_   
_ "That Namek was my teacher, you monster!" Tonk writhed against Freeza's iron grip. Nothing he did would make the child-sized hand let go. So he reached out, his hand sweeping up Freeza's face. If he gouged this monster's eyes out, he'd have a chance._   
_ The cold, narrow face he touched was smooth with rough patches on either side. Freeza's nose had a rounded tip and his slick lips were small and pouty. This examination took only a second. Tonkeshin jerked his fingertips up towards the Icejin's eyes._   
_ But Freeza turned his head, avoiding the sneaky attack. He gripped Tonkeshin's shoulder with his free hand and drove his knee into his stomach._   
_ "OOF!"_   
_ The hand lifted him up again._   
_ "Oh my. A blind Namek. . .and a pathetic excuse for a fighter."_   
_ Tonkeshin felt his temper flare. He couldn't talk with the wind knocked out of him. He knew he was going to die. The only thing left to do was give Freeza the Namekian equivallent of the middle finger._   
_ He spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm._   
_ And felt satisfaction when he heard his spit impact the Icejin's cheek._   
_ Freeza didn't like that one bit._   
_ "Fool," he roared, "DIE!"_   
_ Energy crackled through Freeza's fist. Tonkeshin felt something burst. He opened his mouth to scream, but he didn't have a throat left._   
_ Freeza's laughter exploded through his dulled sense of hearing. Tonk was too shocked to feel actual pain. Another hand burst through his chest. He tried to gasp. The last thing he remembered was a warm, pulsating object being thrust into his hands._   
_ His own heart._   
_ And then he was falling. . .falling into oblivion._
>>> 
>>> Tonkeshin jerked awake to the silence of his bedroom. His hands instantly flew to his throat and chest. Both were intact.   
So it really was all just a nightmare. A memory he hadn't experienced in a long while. Tonkeshin sat up on the edge of his bed, holding his head in his hands. Cold sweat layered his skin, making him feel slimy. He hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower to wash off.   
He entered the room with a towel around his waist and slapped the top of his bedside clock.   
"The time is now. . .seven-thirty a.m.."   
"Oh, great." He whipped the towel off to dry himself. Then he tossed the towel aside, leaving himself naked, and reached into the closet. Hunting down the clothing he'd set aside for today.   
Less than a minute after Tonkeshin pulled on his turtleneck and jeans, he heard someone pound the door.   
"Tonk, it's Greg! Open up!"   
"Coming!"   
Tonk unlocked the door and let his friend in. He pushed it gently shut and turned around. "Whew, had you come two minutes earlier, I wouldn't have heard you. I just got out of the shower."   
Greg just coughed a laugh. "Oh well. Hey, are you all right? You look like you saw a ghost or something."   
"Nah, just a bad dream before I woke up, that's all." Tonk flashed a smile and let the memory slip back into his subconscious. Excitement for the upcoming week pushed his thoughts outwards. "C'mon, I already have my closet sorted so I can just pull out the clothes I want and pack them. You can label the bags for me."   
"No problem."   
Both headed into the bedroom. Tonkeshin darted for the closet to extract a suitcase while Greg crackled some of those handy space bags. They really were space savers, Tonk didn't need an extra suitcase for his spare cane and its accessories.   
"Okay..." The first thing he packed was his favorite satin shirt and a pair of jeans. Next came a sweatsuit and some extra pairs of boxers. Tonkeshin smiled when he left for the last garment he needed.   
He trailed the wall until his fingertips arched on the hallway closet doorknob. Opening the door, he reached inside for the clothing kept securely in a plastic bag. He knelt to pick up another wrapped object on the floor. Staring into space as he gently touched the leathery material inside.   
Nail's vest.   
It made him smile.   
Tonk made a quick decision. He slipped his own vest off the hanger and replaced it with Nail's. Another smile curved his lips upwards. _This one's for you, teacher._   
"Hey," Greg's hearty voice came from his bedroom doorway, making Tonk's antennae stand on end. "We don't have all day. Are you on a safari or something?"   
"Yup. But I'm afraid the pictures I took either have my fingers showing or peoples' heads cut off." Heat flooded Tonkeshin's cheeks. He picked the rawhide shoes up off the floor and used the thread he'd strung through to tie them to the hanger. Then he carried the clothing into the room and placed it gently in the space bag.   
"Make sure you label this as my Tournament outfit."   
Greg exhaled, "You got it. I already packed your tennis shoes and some socks, all white so you don't have to worry about matching them up. I have one other thing for you."   
"Oh?"   
Something cool and rectangular slid into Tonkeshin's palm. It had braille on the back. He examined it and flipped the top up. Smooth buttons greeted his fingertips, some labeled with a braille letter. His forehead wrinkled, "A cell phone?"   
"It's one of those phones that takes pictures. I have one too. I have all the buttons you need to worry about labeled with a letter. The functions that go with 'em are stuck on the back." Greg's voice hinted a smile.   
"I thought I'd get us both one so that, if you go wandering around and get lost, you can just take a picture of where you are and I can either help you out or come find you. A little insurance in case something stupid happens. Just make sure you keep the buttons facing you when you shoot, or you'll end up taking a picture of your nostrils or something."   
Tonk laughed, "Gee, and they're such pretty nostrils, too. Oh hey, did you pack my extra folding cane, elastic and tips?"   
Greg grabbed Tonkeshin's wrist and placed his hand over the said objects. "All here. Don't worry, I've got you covered. I put new elastic and a fresh tip on the spare while you were messing around in the closet."   
"All right, cool." Tonk made one last dash for his bookshelf to extract a few braille books and his slate and stylus. That way he could read if he got bored and write down his experiences for later recall.   
Finally, he felt around for the zippers. He smiled as they whirred shut, securing his belongings inside.   
Tonk probed around the handle, locating a plastic padlock shaped object. He reached into his pocket for a small device similar to what sighted people used to disarm their car alarms. Pushing a button made the tiny speaker on his suitcase beep. Good, it worked. The handy little thing made locating his luggage much easier.   
"Are you all set now?" Greg asked from near the doorway.   
"Yeah." Tonkeshin lifted the suitcase and headed into the living room. He grabbed his cane off the table by the door and let gravity unfold it. "Let's rock and roll."   
"One last thing."   
"What?" Now Tonk was anxious to get out the door.   
"Put on some sunglasses. Airports are crazy and not everybody will pay attention to your cane unless they see you wearing sunglasses. Don't ask me why, it's another dumb stereotype, I guess."   
"Oh, right. Just a sec." He hurried back into his bedroom and located his shades. He owned several pairs, so he picked through different labels and finally donned his cheapest pair - the ones with plastic frames. They didn't even have a case because they were so cheap, and he wouldn't mind them getting broken or lost.   
Tonkeshin quietly joined Greg by the front door and grinned. "Do I look blind enough for you now?"   
"Yep. Got your tin cup and pencils?"   
Tonk smirked as he ushered Greg outside and locked the door. "Sure I do. They sit on my desk at work and anybody that needs a pencil can take one."   
"Good for you." Greg chuckled. Tonkeshin felt a hand shove him lightly towards the stairs. "Let's go. Our chariot awaits."   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: Phew! That was a long chapter. I had a rough time typing out Tonkeshin's nightmare. It's hard to write him in a sad mood because he never stays unhappy for long! 
>>> 
>>> Oh yeah, and I tossed in that little naked bit for the ladies. grin


	7. 7

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
7   
  
"Okay, here's the car door. Watch your head getting in."   
Tonkeshin stuck a hand out. He located the car door and followed it to the opening before ducking into the passenger seat. Scents of new leather surrounded him. He buckled up, folded his cane and settled it in his lap. "Where's my suitcase going?"   
Greg scraped a few things around, "In the trunk."   
The trunk squeaked open and the car jiggled. WHUMPH! This time the vehicle shook. Greg came around and another door opened. Weight settled in the driver's seat and the door crashed shut. Rattling keys clicked into the ignition. An engine purred to life, making the car vibrate gently. Wisps of gasoline wafted through the open window.   
Tonk pulled his door shut as Greg was buckling his seat belt. He trailed a hand across the dashboard and discovered Greg's exotic bobble dancer - grass skirt, lei and all. He gave it a flick, letting its round middle bump against his palm.   
"I see your little dancer made it to the new car."   
"Heh!" Greg elbowed him in the ribs, "I wouldn't dare go anywhere without her."   
"Gregory B. Coffee, you are the most perverted human being I know." Tonkeshin burst out laughing. "What does your wife think of that thing?"   
"Linda loves it. She's the one who bought it for me."   
"Figures. I suppose it's to remind you she can move in a similar manner, right?"   
Tonk heard Greg cough a laugh. The car shifted into gear and pulled out onto the road.   
"I just had a thought. . ."   
"Don't hurt yourself now."   
He elbowed Greg's ribs and grinned, flashing his fangs. "What are we going to do once we get on the plane? I didn't think to put my cards into the suitcase. Just my walkman with the songs I downloaded and a book to read. The rest is clothes and extra capsule space for souvenirs, as you know."   
Greg was quiet for a few moments. Probably concentrating on the road. He spoke up when the car halted at what Tonkeshin presumed to be a stoplight. "I brought a deck of my dad's cards, he has a million of 'em. But there's always stewardesses to harass and peanuts to toss at people."   
"Tossing nuts? Of all the childish. . .good grief." Tonk laughed. Laughing helped him get over the nervous disorientation of being driven around. Almost all the familiar landmarks he encountered while traveling on foot were either faint or absent. He had no idea where he was at the moment, but he didn't mention that to Greg. He just stared straight ahead and kept his ears open.   
"Answer me one question," Greg started.   
"Yeah?"   
"You can fly on your own. So why the heck do you get airsick in airplanes? Last time we went on that flight to North City, you were sick all through takeoff. It doesn't make sense."   
Tonkeshin shuddered at that. He faced Greg's voice and replied, "Because when I fly, I'm moving and in control. Inside a plane, I'm sitting stationary while the vehicle is flying. I'm fine once everything goes back to horizontal. I guess it's just my brain thinks it's sitting still and my body knows its moving, so everything gets confused. I hate it, but I'll live."   
Greg shifted in his seat. The leather creaked under his weight and the car started moving again. "Just don't puke on my new shirt, okay?"   
"Sure thing."   
Greg's window rolled down. Then it rolled back up, dials clicked and the air conditioner came on. "Aren't you getting hot in that turtleneck? I'm wearing short sleeves and I'm going to be dripping soon. Argh! Damn heat."   
Tonk smirked. Aside from a little sweat cooling his brow, he wasn't at all uncomfortable in the muggy air. "I have a higher body-temperature than you. Namek was a warm planet with three suns. Eighty six degrees is cool to me. Try a hundred and twenty sometime, that was about the average temperature all the time."   
"I'm never taking a vacation there. Ever. How could you _stand_ it?" The turn signal clicked to life and the car swung gently left.   
"Drinking a lot of water. Swimming. Running really, really, really fast so the wind cooled me off." He laughed at the last part, wondering if Greg fell for it.   
Silence.   
Laughter bubbled up.   
"Yeah, right! Whatever you say, green man." 
>>> 
>>> Tonkeshin wasn't sorry to climb out of the car. His knees probably popped thirty times once he straightened. The asphalt beneath his feet reflected the sun's heat like a solar panel. "Mmh! They just don't make cars for tall guys, do they?"   
"Not for tall guys who are all legs like you." Greg shuffled around behind the car, fiddling with the luggage in the trunk. His footsteps came up from the left, "Suitcase coming at you."   
Tonk let gravity unfold his cane and allowed the tip to slant against the ground. He accepted the suitcase in his left hand. With his right hand he gripped his cane gently, index finger sliding down the length of the handle. It was hard to tell how crowded it was over the roar of jet engines preparing for takeoff.   
"How crowded is it? Should I choke up on the cane a little?"   
"Relax, buddy." Greg grunted and slammed the trunk, "I'll tell you when it gets tight. We have plenty of time, an hour, before our flight is scheduled to take off. Really, Tonk, we're not going to miss the plane.   
Sighing, Tonkeshin pushed his sunglasses up on his nose and faced the sound of jet engines. Excitement made everything move too slow. Only two things stood between him and the Tournament now - a plane flight and seven days. He wanted to be there already!   
For a brief instant Tonkeshin imagined the cheers from all around. The excitement of stepping into the arena. Fighting a worthy opponent amidst clamoring drums. Of standing victorious, pumping his arms in the air.   
"Earth to Tonkeshin, do you copy?"   
He startled from his thoughts. "What?"   
Greg's voice came back into focus. He was chuckling, "C'mon, space case, we're heading in. It's not far, I got us in the second row. We only have to cross one road and we'll be inside."   
"Right." Tonkeshin dutifully stepped forward. He swung his cane like always, except he kept the tip in constant contact with the ground to check the terrain. It wasn't long before it bounced right across a speed bump, which he easily stepped over. More scraping sounds from the uneven asphalt. The tip dropped off an edge.   
"Car on the right." Greg halted.   
"Got it." Tonk stopped and pulled his cane in.   
The car breezed by. They resumed walking. Four steps later, Tonkeshin heard the swish of automatic doors. Cool air blasted him. Voices created a dull roar like ocean waves crashing. He switched from swishing his cane to tapping it, but he had to tap a little harder than usual so the sound would reach him off the smooth, polished floor.   
_Heh,_ he mused to himself, _I could probably slide for miles on this in my socks._   
Greg placed a hand on Tonkeshin's arm to get his attention. Tonkeshin didn't face him, but tilted his head a little to show he was listening.   
Greg spoke, "We're heading for gate twenty-four B, it's straight ahead. Take note of what's around you, just in case we get separated and you have to board without me. I'm going to go check us in."   
"No problem." Tonk nodded, making his antennae sway. He was actually surprised, the airport wasn't as tumultuous as he thought it would be. It made him feel like everyone stopped in their tracks to stare at him. At least people didn't come from all directions to question him about his news report.   
Greg hustled away. Tonkeshin was about to continue forward when someone blasted across his path with a luggage cart. The impact almost knocked the cane right out of his hand! He scowled in rude the person's general direction and continued on his merry way.   
A potted plant beside a metal pillar. Chairs on the left. Decorative tiles gave way to carpet between the two landmarks. The gate would be straight ahead from there. That was all the information Tonkeshin needed, he wasn't going anywhere until Greg came back. Now he could focus on other things.   
Like the different smells of perfume, cologne and shampoo bustling past him. The world became a sea of scents, sounds and different materials accidentally bumping him as people swooped by. Jet engines whined outside from planes landing and taking off, creating vibrations in his breastbone.   
Tonk put his suitcase down between his feet and reached out to touch the plant in front of him. It was fake. No wonder it had no scent.   
A small hand tapped his arm. An equally tiny, female child's voice spoke up, "Hey mister, what's that long stick for?"   
Turning around, Tonkeshin knelt down to be less imposing and smiled. The child was obviously very young, "It's called a cane. I'm blind, which means I can't see anything because my eyes don't work. So I move this cane around in front of me so I won't run into a wall or fall off a curb."   
"Do you have eyes?" Asked the little voice, now curious.   
Tonk removed his sunglasses and looked towards the child. "Yep, I sure do. I can even cross them and make a funny face like this. . ." He made his eyes cross and stuck his tongue out, arousing a giggle from the little girl.   
Silence. Another giggle. Warmth moved past his face, suggesting the girl was probably moving her hand around in front of his face to see if he really couldn't see her.   
"I just stuck my tongue out. Hehe!"   
"I bet it's a funny tongue, too." Tonkeshin grinned toothily.   
"Maize, come here. Don't bother that man!" An older female voice broke in, startling a gasp from the little girl. The woman spoke again from closer, "I'm terribly sorry, sir, sometimes my daughter gets a little too curious."   
Tonk straightened and smiled, donning his shades again. "It's no problem, she just wanted to know what my cane was and what I used it for. I thought I'd explain it so she could understand - "   
Greg approached from the right, "Um, Tonk? Who are you talking to?"   
He choked his voice off and felt heat climbing into his cheeks. His palm turned sticky moist against the handle of his cane. How foolish he must've looked, talking to empty air! Embarrassment almost glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "A little girl asked me about my cane. Her mother came along and took her away. . .I didn't hear them go. Silly me."   
"Tch," Greg snorted contemptuously, "well that girl's mother obviously knows nothing about courtesy."   
He went on, "Anyway, c'mon, the woman up front said we can pre-board so there won't be much hassle later. I'm putting our stuff through customs, you go through the metal detector and get on the plane. I'll find you once I have our luggage in order."   
Tonk whacked Greg's leg gently with his cane, "Mind telling me which way to go?"   
"Straight ahead, dummy. Take a right at the desk and the people there will take care of you."   
He laughed, "Oh, right. Duh."   
"See ya soon." Greg headed off one way and Tonkeshin strode ahead. He walked a little slower than usual, giving people plenty of time to avoid his cane.   
The metal detector wasn't too bad this time. Except the darn thing kept beeping after he removed his keys, his belt with its metal buckle and the metal note-taking slate with its tiny stylus. It took all that for him to realize the metal in his cane was setting it off. Tonkeshin held up the offending metal object and everyone laughed.   
Everything he took off was briskly returned.   
Tonk never thought he'd look forward to stepping through the narrow hatch and entering the plane. _No hassle? Yeah, right!_   
It felt cool inside the actual cabin. Tonk knew right away that nobody else was on board yet, except maybe for the pilot. The whole area smelled like disinfectant mixed with new carpeting. Probably a new plane or something, or the people were just _really_ good at cleaning up after every flight.   
Tonkeshin headed for the back to locate the bathroom. Just in case he had a major problem. Then he headed for the aisle seat in the last row and sat down, folding his cane up and taking off his sunglasses. He immediately felt the back of the seat in front of him, searching out the puke bag. He yanked it free once he found it. Relief made him sigh.   
_Okay, okay. . .I'll be fine as long as I keep this in reach._   
All became quiet.   
He stared blankly ahead, waiting. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. He finally heard another noise up front.   
Greg huffed and puffed his way forward. Tonkeshin stood up immediately to help him store their luggage in the compartment above, but not before he took out his braille book. He'd save the walkman for boring hours in the hotel room when he couldn't sleep.   
"Whew!" Greg's large stomach bumped into Tonkeshin's arm. He sidled into his seat. Tonk could hear the seat groan in protest. "I never thought I'd get this stuff on here. Big men like me should NOT have to drag heavy luggage around."   
"Don't be such a crybaby. You only weigh three-sixty or so. That's not bad compared to most."   
"Humph."   
Tonk wilted into his seat and sighed. At least these seats gave him proper leg room. He rested his head against the back of the seat. Voices up front suggested more people boarding.   
"So who was this Piccolo you said you met?" Asked Greg after he caught his breath.   
"He's another Namek like me, he said he had a long history that he didn't want to get into." He turned to Greg's breathing and flashed a fangy grin, "And he's even taller than I am. You think I'm big, wait till you see him! He's at least seven feet, I know because his voice came from higher up."   
Seats around him shifted. Three people sat down in front of him. Four clumped together on the seats at his right.   
He went on, "So, what kind of people do you see boarding?"   
"Mm, let's see. . ." Greg inhaled slowly. "I see two tall black men with big afros getting seated up front. A pale woman with a baby coming up the aisle. Uh, an elderly couple holding hands, aww, and a woman bigger than I am trying to squeeze into two front seats. And. . .oh no. . ."   
Tonkeshin blinked. "What? What's wrong? Who do you see?"   
Greg shifted uncomfortably in his seat.   
"Greg! Who is it?!"   
"_Carol_."   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: Well, there goes another chapter. I know I'm mean to leave it hanging like that. evil smirk I love cliffhangers, they keep the imagination running wild until the next part comes out. 
>>> 
>>> Thank you to everyone who's been sending me reviews. You're like icing on the cake. Believe it or not I didn't think my fic would interest anybody other than me. Boy was I surprised! grin


	8. 8

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
8   
  
  
Carol.   
Carol Folgers.   
Her name sent cruel shivers down Tonkeshin's spine. The blood drained from his face, making it feel cold. He still hadn't forgotten what she tried to do. Or what Greg said about her over the phone. Having her show up on the same airplane was more than a coincidence. It made him wonder if he'd be the first person ever to use a barf bag _before_ takeoff.   
Tonk leaned over to Greg, "Has she noticed us yet?"   
"She glanced at you," Greg shifted in his seat, "But she's not coming this way. The stewardess is directing her to a seat up front. Right behind the big fat lady."   
Tonkeshin sighed in audible relief. He faced his rotund friend and smirked crookedly, "Do you think anybody would notice if I blasted her out the airlock during takeoff?"   
Greg's laughter answered him. "Maybe you should flush her down the toilet instead. She'll be right at home with all the other piles of crap."   
"Oh, ha, ha!" Tonk couldn't control his laughter in time. He covered his mouth with one hand to muffle it. The surrounding sounds of people talking, stuffing luggage into compartments and walking to their seats didn't change. Pretty soon everything became just a mass of different noises and scents. Perfume, leather, some baby powder here and there and bits of sweat.   
It wouldn't be long until the plane took its place on the runway.   
Tonkeshin leaned back in his seat and sighed, stretching his long legs a little. His mind easily tuned out the instructions of what to do in case of a crash. As if something like that would harm him!   
He did, however, perk up when he heard his name. ". . .so it looks like we have a celebrity on board with us!"   
Applause swept through the cabin like a wave. Tonk ducked his head as prickly heat crawled into his previously clammy cheeks. He hated having attention called to himself for all the wrong reasons. It made him feel like people were going to be staring at him for the whole flight. Just to see how he managed.   
_Yeah, let them stare,_ he thought, _I'll just show 'em I'm not helpless._   
Greg elbowed him in the ribs, interrupting his thoughts. "Carol's smiling at us back here. The bitch, she's the one who mentioned you being here!"   
"Figures."   
_Ding._   
"All passengers, please fasten your seat belts."   
"Oh boy, here we go." Tonk felt around the edges of the seat. He located his seat belt and quickly fastened it. Then he reached for the puke bag, clutching it in his lap. Anticipating the nausea to come. He just hoped nobody took any pictures of him with his face buried in the bag.   
All around were metallic clicks and clatters of belts fastening. Somebody sneezed up front. Beeps sounded as people turned off their cellular phones and laptops. Others just kept talking. Yap, yap, yap. The newly-weds sitting in the seats across the aisle were having an interesting conversation about their impending honeymoon.   
Then the plane lurched into motion. Tonkeshin quickly became disoriented. Unlike a car, the plane moved in a smooth manner that didn't let him distinguish which direction it was moving.   
"Okay, buddy, we're backing out and turning left towards the runway." Greg provided a much appreciated commentary. Tonk gripped an arm of the seat when he felt the plane shift.   
Greg went on, "Almost there. . .right. Get ready, Tonk, here it comes."   
"Ugh." But at least he had some sense of direction.   
Tonkeshin heard the engine whine louder. The floor vibrated under his feet. He set his teeth. An instant later he sensed swift forward motion. A backwards pull told him when they were leaving the ground.   
And, like clockwork, the contents of his stomach turned over and rose into his throat. Tonk lifted the barf bag to his mouth and puked his brains out. 
>>> 
>>> The seat belt lights went off. Tonkeshin knew this because he heard Greg fiddling with the metal clasps. He did the same, his fingertips searching the smooth coolness for the release button.   
"I'm going to the bathroom to wash my mouth out. Is there anything between me and the door?"   
Greg's seat rustled twice. "Nope, it's all clear."   
Tonkeshin nodded and stood up, letting gravity unfold his cane. The first swing detected a narrowing in the walkway ahead. He stepped into it and laid his free hand flat on the cool metal wall to find the door.   
It was a tiny bathroom. Tonkeshin's first indication came when he bumped his head on the doorway. That shook off the rest of his nausea. He slammed the door shut, locked it and used his cane to find the sink.   
Tonk located the faucet easily enough and scooped some cool water into his mouth. He swished, spat and repeated once more. Struggling all the while to relax. It was only a plane. A plane he shared with the last person he ever wanted to run into.   
He stared blankly towards where he knew the mirror was set up and wondered if he looked as sick as he felt. He chuckled to himself. _Yeah, there's a nice first impression._   
Opening the door, Tonk slid his cane out first before ducking into the narrow corridor. He felt the tip bump someone's ankle.   
"Excuse me."   
The scent of banana hand cream and a low female voice greeted him, "Hello, Tonkeshin."   
His grip on the leather cane handle tightened. Great, just great. "Hi, Carol. Could you please get out of my way?"   
"You're trying to avoid me," Carol's tone sounded hurt. Something leather, perhaps an article of her clothing or a purse, creaked.   
Politeness restrained Tonkeshin's tongue from the lashing he felt she deserved. His eyes burned, but he kept the rest of his expression carefully composed. The last thing he wanted was to make a public spectacle. Maybe if he stayed nice about it Carol would get bored and find someone else to crush on.   
He turned his face and eyes towards where he last heard her voice, "I've just been busy lately, I guess. Getting ready for the Tournament and stuff."   
Her presence came closer. A cool, smooth hand touched his. The same one still gripping the cane. "I can tell. Your muscles are bigger. That turtleneck you're wearing, it's nice and tight, and the color looks nice on your skin. I like it." Carol's tone changed to something Tonkeshin couldn't comprehend. Kind of husky. "Don't be too surprised if every woman stops to stare when you walk by. Trust me, Tonkeshin, it's not because you're blind."   
_That_ made Tonkeshin uncomfortable. So much so that his antennae twitched on their own accord. He hated that, it always gave his nerves away. Prickly heat crawled into his cheeks and a bead of sweat dripped off his temple. He licked his lips. "Yeah, thanks a lot. Um, I uh. . .I think I'll go back to my seat now. We're blocking the bathroom."   
Carol's hand withdrew. "Okay. I'll see you later."   
She slid past him. Her body brushed his in a way that made him _really_ uncomfortable. The restroom door clicked shut and locked.   
Tonkeshin took six steps forward and wilted into his seat, angrily folding his cane. Greg said something to him. He didn't quite hear it because his head was too clogged by Carol's actions. The sooner he could get away from her, the better he'd feel.   
"Yo, green bean!" Greg's beefy hand grabbed his shoulder, "Hel-looo?"   
"What?!" Tonkeshin snapped. He faced Greg's general direction with a fierce fangs-bared, nose-wrinkled scowl.   
A brief silence told him his expression startled Greg. He sobered. "Sorry. What did you want?"   
"I saw what happened back there. She's crazy." Greg moved his hand away and rattled a plastic bag. The smell of peanuts wafted up. Crunching followed. "Let me know if you want me to tell her off for you."   
He went on, "Anyway, I ordered you a water. It should arrive pretty soon."   
Tonkeshin touched the seat in front of him and lowered the tray. He got the feeling of eyes watching him, but didn't comment on it.   
_ Stupid Carol, now she has me thinking everybody's looking at me!_   
A moment later his water arrived. He sipped from the plastic cup, sighed and finally said, "You'd think Carol would get bored with me after awhile."   
"Not her. She's persistent."   
"Humph!"   
Carol passed their seats, her banana scent drifting behind like a veil. Tonkeshin wondered if sighted men stared at her the way she said women stared at him.   
Greg elbowed him in the ribs. "You up for some Blackjack?"   
Tonkeshin lowered his glass and grinned, showing his fangs. "Always. Bring it on."   
Playing cards. Now there was a way for Tonk to keep his mind off Carol for awhile. He settled back in his seat and waited for Greg to deal.   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: And so ends another chapter. Boy, ain't Carol a bitch? grins 
>>> 
>>> My sincerest apologies for taking so long to get this chapter up. I've been having bad luck with my computer. First my monitor died - and my stupid screen reader won't work without a monitor. Kind of stupid if you ask me. Then I discovered my mom opened an attachment that let an internet worm into my system, so I had to get that cleaned out. 
>>> 
>>> And lastly, someone accidentally closed a car door on my fingers. They aren't broken, but they've been sore and bruised. I'm just having a bad month, aren't I? laughs 
>>> 
>>> Again, I apologize for taking so long. sheepish I hope this chapter makes up for it.


	9. 9

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
9   
  

>>> 
>>> "Hit me."   
Flop went a card. Tonkeshin sought the braille label in the upper corner. A ten, a four and now he just received a seven. That made twenty one. He grinned smugly to himself, flipping the edge of his newest card with his little finger.   
Greg chuckled and scraped his cards around. His seat creaked. Paper money rattled. "You win again. That's it, I'm tapped out. No more ones."   
"Nah, we'll split it. Here, I'll count." Tonk fanned out all ten one dollar bills he'd won during their Blackjack games. Laying one bill on Greg's tray, then one on his own, he said, "There's one for you, one for me." He dropped another one on his friend's tray. Then he dropped two on his own, laughing. "One for you, two for me. . .one for you, three for me. . ."   
"Hey!" Greg burst into snickers, "Who taught you to split money?"   
"Don't ask," Tonkeshin chuckled and gathered up the remaining cash. He pushed the wad of bills into Greg's beefy hand. This time the betting wasn't entirely serious. "Here, so I won't feel bad about beating the pants off you again."   
"Green bastard." Greg teased, "Scoot, I need the bathroom."   
Tonk dutifully stood up so his large friend could slip by. He started hearing a lot of whispering when he sat down again. Whispering loud enough to pick up over the rattle of food packages, the plane engine and the general murmur of people speaking to each other. Oftentimes he forgot about his surroundings when he and Greg got goofy. It made him feel like people were talking about him. He also got the distinct sensation of eyes boring into him. But from where?   
_Probably Carol_, he mused silently.   
"Back," Greg's tenor voice spoke from above and to the right.   
Tonkeshin stood up and let Greg squeeze past. He sat down again, staring straight ahead towards the front of the plane. "I feel like I'm being watched. Is it Carol?"   
"She was." Lowering his voice, Greg went on, "I gave her the evil eye and she went back to minding her own business. I swear, Tonk, I had no idea she'd develop an infatuation with you. I've watched her look at you. She stares at your eyes."   
"My eyes?"   
"Yeah." More creaking around in the seat. "Well you know, you can usually tell someone is blind by looking at their eyes."   
For some reason Tonkeshin found that funny. He smiled, amused. "Probably because their blindness is a result of something wrong with the eye or the visual part of the brain. For me it's neither. I don't have any optic nerves. No nerve, no signal."   
He shrugged and went on, "The egg I hatched from was exposed to an intense radioactive storm while I was still forming. That's probably what caused it. Eh, it's no big deal. Could've been worse. What if I had two heads and buck teeth?"   
"Hah! I seriously didn't know that. I thought something happened to your brain. Maybe I should've asked sooner."   
"Hmph, it's all right. Talking about it doesn't bother me." Tonk felt around his tray for the water glass. He found it and drained the last of its contents.   
At that moment a sudden thought slashed across his consciousness. He faced Greg and asked, "Since when did Carol switch from coconut to banana hand cream? I almost didn't recognize her. . ."   
"I dunno. I never paid any attention to it."   
"Oh." He sat back and dropped the subject. "So what do you see out the window? Any land yet?"   
Greg twisted in his seat. His voice sounded muffled because he was facing away, "Nope, no land yet. Just a lot of sparkling blue water and a clear sky. It's pretty bright out there." A gasp, "Hey! There's a cruise ship down there! Cool. . .I always wanted to go on a cruise."   
"Big ship?"   
"Big enough that my fat butt can't sink it."   
They both laughed. 
>>> 
>>> Greg's quiet snoring created a gentle droning noise. It almost matched the rhythm in which Tonkeshin's fingers swept over the pages in his book. A very interesting book on meditation. At least it would be if his brain would stay attached to the words on each page. Considering all he'd been through, it wasn't easy.   
Tonk sighed and gave up. He couldn't keep his mind on what he was reading for more than a few seconds at a time. Thanks to Carol, his thoughts kept drifting between her, the Tournament and countless other things.   
He lightly touched the thick plastic ball-tip on the folded cane sitting in his lap. Sometimes touching an object a certain way evoked memories of when he was little. This was no different. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts go back in time to his fourth year of life: 
>>> 
>>> _Thick grass shifted abruptly to dirt under Tonkeshin's small feet. His long tunic kept tripping him. He smacked hard into the side of the building he was searching for. Tears blazed liquid fire down his cheeks. He trailed the smooth wall in search of the door. When he couldn't find it, he shouted, "Lians! Lians, are you home?"_   
_ A loud whirring noise sounded from the left. Wooden tapping and heavy footsteps came out. The footsteps of someone who spent many days on his knees, working on keeping the Ajisa plants alive. Then a deep voice roughened by age spoke from a long way up, "Tonkeshin, what's the matter?"_   
_ "They laugh at me because I run into things and can't find my shoes. . .and say I'm blinder than you because I can't tell if it's sunny or not." The young Namek tearfully approached the elder, both hands held out straight to seek out obstacles. Each step carried the terror of falling a million miles. "Why don't they run into things all the time?"_   
_ "Ah, my boy." Tonkeshin felt Lians' hands, large and wrinkled like old wood, close around both of his and pull him gently forward. "Come inside and I'll explain it to you."_   
_ Tonkeshin allowed himself to be led into the warm abode. The careful hands steered him to a wooden bench and pushed him gently to sit. He heard a creak that signified the elder had seated himself on the same bench._   
_ "You are blind." Lians spoke gently, "That means you 'see' with your hands instead of your eyes, but that doesn't mean you're any different than your other brothers."_   
_ "But what about colors?" Frustration choked Tonk's voice. He struggled to stop his tears. "What's blue? Red? Green?"_   
_ He felt the kind elder's hand rest atop his head. Its soft pressure was reassuring. "Don't worry yourself about such things. There is more to life than colors. You can still enjoy the smell of soil after a storm, or the velvet of a leaf between your fingers, or even the song of a waterfall. Use your imagination."_   
_ Tonkeshin brightened and gazed up towards Lians' voice, "Rain on the roof! It helps me sleep."_   
_ Lians made an approving noise. His hand withdrew, "To keep track of your shoes, you need to put them in the same place every time you take them off. I keep mine by my bed."_   
_ "And how do I not run into things?"_   
_ The elder replied, "By using a cane similar to this."_   
_ Something large and wooden slid into Tonkeshin's hand. He closed his fingers around it - they didn't encircle it completely - and examined it thoroughly. It didn't seem to be more than a long, heavy stick that had been scraped smooth._   
_ He faced Lians' breathing, "How do I use it?"_   
_ "I'll teach you. But first I have to make one in your size. It will only take a moment." The voice carried a smile behind it, "Wait here."_   
_ Suddenly the presence beside Tonkeshin was gone. He listened to the shuffling footsteps moving away. It was amazing, Lians could walk around in his home without hitting a single thing! How did he do it?_   
_ The careful footsteps returned, "Stand up for me."_   
_ Tonkeshin obediently stood. He felt Lians rest a rough stick against his shoulder, his hands measuring the distance from the ground to his armpit._   
_ "Good. I'll be right back."_   
_ For the next several minutes, Tonkeshin listened to Lians cut, scrape, notch and shape the rough stick. When he felt the object slid into his hand again, it felt like a smaller version of the long rod Lians handed to him earlier._   
_ "If you are willing, I can teach you how to use this cane so you won't run into things. The others will quickly stop laughing at you once they see you can get around as well as they do." Lians tapped his own cane on the smooth floor. It created a hollow click that echoed off the walls of his home. "With it you'll be able to go anywhere you want without having to hang on to someone's arm. It can even tell you if the ground is uneven so you won't trip."_   
_ Tonkeshin's eyes widened. He sprang up and grasped the front of the tall elder's floor-length tunic. Behind it, he felt his knee. "Teach me!" He smiled up towards his new source of hope, "Please, teach me everything!"_
>>> 
>>> Tonkeshin took his fingers off the tip of his cane and smiled. His life was never the same after Lians made that old cane for him. The whole world just opened up and let him in.   
He felt the plane take on a leftward tilt. His stomach groaned in protest, but he didn't throw up.   
Greg's snoring didn't miss a beat. Tonk pondered taking an ice cube from his glass and dumping it in Greg's lap. If anything it would leave a funny surprise for him when he woke up.   
Before Tonkeshin could even dig his fingers into his drink glass, he heard a beep. A female voice spoke over the intercom, "All passengers please buckle your seat belts. We're passing through a minor storm, so expect some turbulence."   
"Huh? We landing?" Greg yawned.   
Tonk found his seat belt and buckled it. Clatters all around suggested others were doing the same.   
"No, going through a storm. C'mon, buckle up."   
Less than a second after Greg buckled his belt, the whole plane vibrated. Tonkeshin gasped and grabbed the armrest of his seat. His ears popped. That meant the plane was going lower.   
"Whoa, relax buddy. We're not crashing."   
Tonkeshin laughed at himself. How foolish he must look, getting all nervous over a little quiver. "I hate airplanes."   
"So do I, but not for the same reason." Greg squirmed around, making Tonk's seat move as well. "These darn seats. It must be horrible for that poor woman up front. I wouldn't be surprised if she weighs over four hundred pounds."   
"Wow."   
Of course Tonkeshin didn't understand what made fat people so unattractive. Just another visual thing he'd never "get". Of course he usually found himself wrinkling his nose if he had to speak to someone with obvious body odor, smelly breath or a strange sounding voice. Squeaky nasal voices like those of Cappa and Cheeno drove him absolutely insane.   
He could recall asking a nice young man about the price on a bottle of laundry detergent. Later on he learned the person he spoke to had more body piercings than a pin cushion and wore clothing that made him look like someone from a gothic band.   
Then there were people like Carol, who everyone said was attractive. But her pretty outer looks hid a strange individual. He still wondered why he never noticed this behavior before. . .she always did like standing a little too close when they had a conversation. Now that he knew why, he shuddered at the thought.   
"Land-ho," Greg whispered. He scuffed his shoes against the floor. "Get ready, we're going to land any minute now."   
"Right."   
An announcement went up, telling everyone to please remain seated and return their trays to their upright positions.   
Tonk pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and leaned back. Pressure built up in his ears until they popped. Elation bubbled inside him like carbonation in soda. His antennae perked. The plane was definitely descending. That meant the only thing between him and the Tournament was a space of seven days.   
The floor became level.   
"Here it comes. . ." said Greg, "Doing okay over there?"   
"Just fine."   
A jolt startled him slightly. He heard the squeal of tires and sighed. Back on the ground again.   
Suddenly a hand tapped his right shoulder. Tonkeshin faced the direction curiously, "Hello? Can I help you?"   
"I'm sorry to disturb you," It was the female newly-wed he'd been hearing all through the flight. The one who kept chattering on and on to her husband. "I was wondering if I could get your autograph. I heard about you on the news, but I didn't want to bother you during the flight. I have a pen and - oh! Silly me."   
"Naw, hand it here, I can sign my name." Tonkeshin grinned, he couldn't help it. Nobody ever asked him for his autograph before! "Just put the pen where you want my signature."   
Manicured fingers guided his hand to the right spot. He used his thumb for a line guide and signed his name. "There you go. Hey, have fun on your honeymoon."   
"We sure will," The man chuckled.   
"Thanks," Giggled the woman.   
Then the couple shuffled from their seats and started grabbing their luggage. Tonkeshin stood up and did the same, sliding his and Greg's suitcases to freedom. By then the plane seemed pretty much empty. If Carol was still there, Tonkeshin didn't know or care.   
"Got your stuff?"   
"Yup." Tonk allowed gravity to unfold his cane. "C'mon, let's get going."   
Greg shuffled past him to take the lead. "Wow, it's been raining pretty hard here. Everything's soaked."   
"Nothing like the smell of fresh air after rain." Tonk replied, grinning toothily. He ran his tongue over his front teeth and stared blankly ahead in anticipation of exiting the stuffy plane.   
A laugh sounded, "I can't wait to get us checked into our hotel. After that I'm ordering myself the most exotic dinner I can find. I swear, I'm starved."   
"Psh. You're always hungry." Tonk dug the end of his cane against Greg's heels and laughed, "Now march."   
Greg shuffled forward. Tonkeshin followed close behind. They both passed a cloud of banana freshness. Great, Carol was going to get off behind them.   
Just as he suspected, soft sounds indicated she was indeed coming up from the rear. The rollers on her suitcase were a dead giveaway. She didn't even realize he knew of her presence. And at the moment, he didn't care, all he could think about was getting off the plane.   
More forward movement. Tonk went with the flow, keeping his cane held tight next to his chest and tilted forward slightly to locate anything waiting beyond his toes. The tip rammed into the cabin door. Greg forgot to mention the turn. He turned abruptly right and stepped into the corridor between the plane and the airport.   
"Sorry, forgot." Greg fell into step with him, pointedly ignoring Carol. "Gimme your bag, I'll check it in with mine."   
Tonkeshin held his suitcase out to his friend, "Thanks. I'll wait for you by the gate."   
The bag was lifted from his grasp. Greg's footsteps hurried away.   
Carol's rolling suitcase rumbled closer. Tonk did a sudden about face and trained his eyes in the general direction of the sound. "I know you're back there, Carol. Was the view nice?"   
Carol was so surprised that she ran right into his chest. Tonkeshin suspected it wasn't entirely an accident. He didn't move.   
"I'm. . .sorry. I didn't think you heard me." Her weight pressed more solidly against him. Moist lips touched his cheek. "Remember what I said about people staring." Her voice hinted at a smile.   
Then she was gone, lost in the confusing throng of people all around.   
A sneer curled Tonkeshin's thin lips. He wiped his cheek on his sleeve.   
"I can't believe you just let her walk away!" Greg roughly grabbed his arm. A move that startled ten years off Tonk's life.   
"Shut up, I didn't know what she was doing," Tonk snapped furiously, "What's she going to pull next time? And the next?"   
Greg sighed, turned Tonkeshin in the right direction and let go of his arm. "Dude, sorry I scared you. Just settle down."   
He went on, "Anyway, you have to be frank with Carol. Just tell her to her face that you're not interested."   
Tonkeshin flipped his cane into the proper position and started tapping it gently across his path in an arc slightly wider than his shoulders. His temper quickly cooled. He remembered his sunglasses and donned them. The feeling of being watched from all directions returned, but he ignored it.   
"And if that doesn't work? Huh? What then?"   
Greg coughed a laugh, "Then you run. Fast."   
The tension left Tonkeshin's expression. His laughter joined Greg's. "I don't think there's a place I can run to get away from the likes of her. But whatever, she doesn't concern me." He gave Greg a nudge and grinned crookedly, "We're here! That's all I care about. Now the fun begins."   
". . .I hate it when you smile like that." Muttered Greg, "What are you up to?"   
"I'm not up to anything, I'm just excited to be here," Tonk replied. "Hey, are we still in the same time zone, or do I have to adjust my watch?"   
"We lost an hour. Not too bad." Soft clicking indicated Greg was adjusting his watch to the proper time. "We're due to pick up the rental car in about twenty minutes."   
Tonkeshin fixed his watch as well. "Do we have enough time?"   
"Plenty."   
"Cool." He followed Greg to the baggage claim area. After that they headed for the cool breeze coming from outside.   
Tonkeshin didn't disguise his smile when tile became wet pavement under his cane and feet. Moist, fresh air greeted his nose. People, cars and luggage carts whizzed past. Puddles splashed. Jet engines howled.   
It was real this time, he wasn't dreaming.   
_Seven days to go._   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: And there's another chapter! Whew, long one, too. I can't believe this one came together so fast. My fingers are feeling a lot better, so here I am typing up a storm. 
>>> 
>>> I got a huge laugh when I heard that "My Hands Are Small" song by Jewel while I was pondering how to word the part with Chibi Tonkeshin and Lians. shakes his head and grins Let's just say it provided a little inspiration. 
>>> 
>>> By the way, thanks for the fun RP, Velasa. wink


	10. 10

> > >   
  
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
10   
  

>>> 
>>> A key-card swished through its proper slot.   
Nothing happened.   
"The strip's on the other side." Greg stated from behind.   
Tonkeshin sighed, turned the card over and tried again. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. The smell of freshly-dried carpet shampoo greeted him. He kept his head down in case the doorway was low and stepped through.   
The key-cards here were tricky, the magnetic band was on the opposite side to the ones on his credit cards! He'd have to remember to keep the raised writing towards the thin side of the slot.   
"Okay, I got the room right across the hall." Greg stated, "Want me to tell you what's where?"   
"Yeah, sure." Tonk grinned, "Makes it easier than finding everything with my kneecaps."   
"Like your phone at home?" Greg snickered as he rattled his suitcase around. His footsteps approached and his voice hinted a smile.   
"We're standing at six o'clock. There's a short corridor leading into the room. The wall's behind the door, stretching all the way from seven o'clock to twelve o'clock. At nine you have the television sitting on a tray. You've got a window at twelve o'clock, the curtains are open, but the glass is tinted so people can't see in. There's a table at two, your bed and nightstand are at three and the bathroom is at five. The room itself is about the size of your bedroom at home. Nice and cozy. Shall I do the bathroom too, or do you want to handle that?"   
"Nah, I'll do that later. Thanks, bud." Tonkeshin plopped his suitcase down long enough to pat Greg on the shoulder. "You go out and mess around all you want. I'm going to settle in a bit before I head for the beach to train in peace."   
Greg slid past him, smelling a bit of sweat and aftershave. "Sure thing, Tonk. See you later for a smoothie? I heard they're the best at the bar here."   
"Sure thing! Wouldn't miss it."   
The door across the hall clicked shut. Tonk closed his door as well.   
Finding the room on his own would be easier than he expected. Number ten on the first floor. All he needed to remember was to always enter the west-facing door, keep the reception desk on his right when he came in and on his left when he went out. A row of three sweet-smelling potted plants were set up between each room. If he counted ten rows and turned right, he had his room. Easy as pie!   
Tonkeshin lifted his suitcase and started towards the bed. Eight steps. He dropped his suitcase on the springy mattress, testing it. It sounded comfortable and didn't squeak. That was always good, it meant the mattress was new.   
Tonk headed for the window, felt around for the lock and held it open while he pushed sideways. The window didn't budge. He tried pushing out. The window slid right open with little to no effort. Warmth from the sun blasted down on his skin. A gust of hot sea breeze blew in, telling him the water was warm and choppy from the earlier storm. The ocean sounded as if it were only a stone's throw away. It whooshed, hissed and sizzled in its own rhythm.   
Tonk lifted his head and inhaled deeply of the fresh air. He swore his lungs said 'ahh'. A smile stretched his lips upwards. He wondered if the view was as beautiful as it felt and sounded.   
"What the hell am I still doing in here?" He asked himself, laughing. "Don't worry, beach, I'm coming." 
>>> 
>>> Tonkeshin didn't remember putting a pair of jean shorts into his suitcase. Greg probably stuffed them in at the last minute. Regardless of how the shorts found their way into his luggage, Tonk was glad they were there.   
He walked barefoot along the beach, wearing just the shorts and nothing else. His cane dug zig-zag patterns in the sand, shifting occasional shells and pieces of trash aside. The hot sun beat down delightfully on his bare skin. Seagulls flapped and chattered all around.   
The seagulls were pretty tame. They waddled aside to let him pass, but few actually flew away. And there seemed to be thousands of them hanging around. Waiting to steal a forgotten scrap of food, picking at sand crabs and just making a racket.   
Tonk stopped walking when the sounds of people became just a distant murmur over the churning water. He promptly sat down in the lotus position, folded up his cane and settled it next to his right hip. In a few seconds he'd become almost as still as one of the many grains of sand surrounding him.   
Letting go of everything, Tonkeshin blanked his mind to all but the ocean and the wind. He inhaled as the surf rushed in and exhaled as it washed out. The breeze whispered by in the heartbeat between each wave. A rhythm that only changed if someone walked by and blocked the airflow.   
A moment later found Tonk completely focused. The air itself moved against objects like rain. Painting the world with a new clarity. He could 'feel' everything within about a ten foot radius.   
Like the buildings behind him. A rock formation on the left. The crab moving from right to left directly in front of him.   
_"Once you learn to focus, you'll be aware of even the smallest of things."_ Nail once told him.   
Suddenly, Tonkeshin snatched something form the air above his head. He lowered his fist, smiled and opened it. The fly he'd captured took off.   
An energy signal came to Tonkeshin's attention. Not two seconds later he both felt and heard someone touch down behind him. He remained focused. The person lunged forward. Tonk tilted his head to the right and felt a fist whiz past his ear.   
"Your teacher trained you well," Piccolo's deep voice sounded from above. He spoke in such a monotone that Tonkeshin couldn't figure out if it was sarcasm or a true compliment.   
Tonk smiled with pride and stood up, turning to face Piccolo, "That he did." His head cocked curiously, "So what brings you all the way out here, Piccolo?"   
Something rustled with the breeze. Tonkeshin suspected it was a cape of some sort. He heard Piccolo's gruff reply, "Just came to check up on you, I guess. I sensed your power focusing and figured you were training."   
"Heh, yeah, that I am. But don't you dare ask me to spar you," He chuckled, "I don't want to give away all my moves before the Tournament."   
Piccolo snorted a small laugh. "Somehow I doubt I'll be too overly surprised. But I look forward to seeing what you've got. If we don't get a match together in the Tournament, we'll just have an unofficial one somewhere else. How does that grab you, Tonkeshin?"   
"Sounds good to me." Tonk lifted his brow ridges. "Hey, maybe we can hang out at the bar by the hotel a little later. My buddy, Greg, says he heard they have great smoothies there. Wanna come chill for awhile?"   
"Thanks, but no thanks." Piccolo answered sharply. "Hm, there's a female approaching. A lady-friend?"   
"What's she look like?"   
A brief pause. "Blonde hair and a two-piece bathing suit that shows almost too much. She's definitely heading this way."   
Tonkeshin felt his heart sink. He tightened his fist. "She isn't exactly a friend. . .not anymore, anyway. I swear she's stalking me."   
"Heh, sorry. Can't help you there. I'll be going now." Piccolo's tone sounded amused this time. There was a rush of power and a swishing noise. The airspace where Piccolo had been standing was now vacant.   
By then, Tonk's focus was gone. His senses were once again what they were in everyday life. He heard the sand shifting and felt eyes on him. It made him suddenly embarrassed about not having a shirt on.   
"Oh my, I didn't know there were more green men like you around." Carol mused from behind.   
Tonkeshin really wished Piccolo would've stayed. Somehow he didn't think the bigger Namek would stand for Carol's embarrassing advances. He shook his head to clear it. Just what he needed - more clouds in his mind.   
"Yeah, well. . .I'm not the only Namek in the universe." He faced Carol without putting on his usual smile. "What do you want, Carol?"   
"What do I always want?" She countered seductively. A camera clicked, then she giggled, "You without a shirt. I just had to get one picture."   
Tonk scowled and knelt down to where he knew he left his cane.   
It wasn't there.   
He moved his hand in a circle around the area. Maybe someone kicked sand over it by accident.   
Still nothing.   
Growing trepidation welled up in his stomach. He could be independent as long as he had his cane. But without it he was almost completely helpless. Being without it in the Tournament ring would be one thing. But on a beach without any landmarks? He was completely lost! He didn't feel comfortable advertising his helplessness by asking favors from strangers. And there was no way in Hell he'd take Carol's arm.   
Carol seemed aware of his distress. She chuckled, "Looking for this?"   
Four clicks. Tonkeshin knew that sound well. His cane was being unfolded. The tip tapped against his ankle and rubbed up the inside of his leg. _All_ the way up. He backed away from it, now becoming very uncomfortable. Sweat beaded on his brow and dripped down the sides of his face.   
"Carol," With his temper flaring quickly, Tonkeshin forced calm into his voice, "That's not funny." He turned his face and eyes towards her breathing and held his hand out, his face expressionless. "Please give me my cane."   
The cane folded again. Click-snap, click-snap, click-snap, click-snap.   
A giggle sounded, "Come get it yourself, big guy."   
To Tonkeshin's horror, Carol's footsteps were already running away.   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: There goes another chapter. . .and there goes Carol with Tonkeshin's cane! Oh no, what is Tonk going to do now? Isn't Carol just sick? chuckles 
>>> 
>>> I got the idea of focus in this chapter from listening to Dragonball. The episodes about the crown and the forest were pretty cool. It gave me some great ideas for Tonkeshin's training. I just hoped I got what Mr. Popo meant right. Sight to the blind. You know, that is kind of possible in real life. Sound shadows, which were already explained in earlier chapters. Works best on windy days, although I don't think I'd be able to catch a fly like Tonk did. grin 
>>> 
>>> By the way, I suggest everyone go check out _The Life Of A DBZ Gangsta_ by The DBZ Dealer. Tonkeshin, Greg and groans, then laughs Carol are in it(with my permission) and it's a lot of fun to read. Great laughs and a cool storyline! Go check it out!


	11. 11

> > > Blending In   
11
>>> 
>>>   
  
The fire behind Tonkeshin's face had never burned hotter than it did when he heard Carol's footsteps running away. It was the first time he'd been without a cane since he was little. Having the cane removed from his use was like taking crutches away from someone with a broken leg. He felt stranded.   
If that wasn't bad enough, he'd left the cell phone in his other pants!   
Tonk stood rooted to the spot. Maybe Carol would realize she'd taken her game a little too far and return with the cane.   
Minutes passed. No sign of her approach. He'd have to move.   
Even though he knew most of the beach goers were far off, Tonkeshin still felt like all eyes were on him. His face burned hotter. He stuck his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. If he bumped into anyone he could always say he wasn't watching where he was going. Using the surf as a guide, he shuffled forward until wet sand struck the soles of his feet. At least there he knew he wouldn't accidentally step on sunbathers or kick over someone's drink.   
Cool, sizzling water washed over Tonkeshin's feet. He walked along at half his usual speed. Paying close attention to disturbances in the air so he could avoid running into most of the children frolicking about.   
Sounds of talking, laughing and other signs of a crowd finally reached Tonkeshin's ears. He'd once again joined the crowded area near the hotels.   
A large wave crashed. The surf rose to his knees. Footsteps squished towards him in the wet sand.   
"Hey mister, I saw what 'dat broad did," a rough voice said from the right, "I can give ya a hand back to 'da hotel if ya need it."   
Tonkeshin perked up and faced the person. Though he wasn't entirely comfortable with letting a stranger guide him, he knew it might be his only way out of this mess. "Thank you. Did you see where she went?"   
"Sorry, lost her in 'da crowd." The person came closer, "'Da name's Ace. I saw ya on 'da news. Yer name's Tonkeshin, right?"   
"Ace. Yeah, that's right."   
Ace took Tonk's arm. Tonk startled a bit as Ace started practically hauling him forward. He cleared his throat and planted his feet.   
"Uh, this would be easier if I just took your elbow," He pointed out.   
"Oh, right! Sure."   
The hand wrapped around Tonkeshin's arm withdrew. Tonk touched Ace's shoulder and followed his arm down to his elbow. He noticed immediately that Ace was a little on the beefy side, kind of short and wearing a business suit with padded shoulders. Odd attire for a day at the beach, but Tonk figured the guy probably just got off work and lived nearby.   
"Okay, I'm ready now." Tonk smiled a silent thanks towards the man, "I'll be about a half-step behind you."   
"Right. Here we go."   
Wet sand turned dry. Ace walked with heavy feet at a medium pace, letting Tonkeshin easily keep up. They wove around people, food stands and umbrellas. Different voices, bits of conversation and laughter gave the air a throng much like the roaring ocean.   
Sand gave way to hot cement. Ace had taps on the heels of his shoes that made his footsteps click rhythmically. He definitely had heavy feet. Tonk listened to the sound like he did his cane, letting it tell him how open the area was.   
He must have been further from the hotel than he thought. Either that or Ace was taking him the long way around.   
"How much further?" Tonk asked quietly.   
Ace flexed his elbow reassuringly, his tone pleasant. "Not far. We're almost 'dere, just a couple more yards."   
More footsteps joined Ace's. Tonkeshin turned his head slightly to scan the area with his ears. As far as he could tell, five people were walking with them.   
"Friends of yours?"   
"Yeah," Ace answered. "'Dere my buddies. Ya got Bridge on 'da right."   
"Yo." Bridge had a scratchy voice and wore something that jingled. Perhaps a chain with a pocket watch.   
"'Da guy on 'da left is Cribbage."   
"Pleasure's mine." Cribbage sounded very smooth. His footsteps didn't make much sound at all. Almost like he was barefoot.   
"'Ya got Canasta walkin' just ahead."   
Canasta rustled something and hissed out a cold greeting, his voice very low. "Good day, green man."   
"Also walkin' just ahead, 'ya got Euchre. He's a little guy, so don't trip on him."   
"Hi!" Euchre's squeaky voice called back.   
"And 'den 'dere's Poker, but he don't talk much. He's our big guy."   
A puff of exhaled air and very heavy footsteps were the only signs of Poker's presence.   
"It's nice to meet you all," Tonk replied with a smile.   
By the time the introductions were finished, Tonkeshin realized he and Ace were still walking. Suddenly the sun's warmth disappeared. The pavement under his bare feet went from hot to cool. He instantly got the impression of two large objects on either side, each about ten feet apart. Buildings. He was being led down an alleyway. Far away from the sounds of people.   
Something wasn't right.   
"Hey, this isn't the way to the hotel!" Tonkeshin stopped walking and tightened his grip on Ace's arm. His smile quickly disappeared. "Where are you taking me?"   
Ace withdrew himself from Tonk's grasp. "Oh, I'm taking ya to 'da hotel. But first," a revolver cocked and Tonk felt the cool barrel of a pistol touch his chest. "I want yer wallet."   
For a moment Tonkeshin stood there in blank astonishment. The suit, the other people surrounding him as they entered the alley, the accent - they were gangsters! Gangsters that just took advantage of his being blind.   
The gun pressed harder against his breastbone. "Now reach into yer pocket real slow and take out yer wallet. If ya shout, yer dead. Cribbage, go cityside. Euchre, go beachside. Whistle if someone comes."   
"Okay!" The little man squeaked. His light footsteps retreated.   
Cribbage probably nodded, because he just scuffed his feet without a word and moved away.   
Ace's remaining friends crept closer, obviously blocking the only two escape routes. Tonk wasn't sure of their size, strength or agility. Except for Poker.   
Somewhere deep in Tonkeshin's psyche, a fire ignited. First Carol embarrasses him and takes his cane. Then these gangsters come along, pretend to be his friends and end up threatening his life.   
He'd had enough.   
Tonkeshin felt a vein on his temple start pulsating. His jaw tightened and his heartbeat quickened. Fire grew in the pit of his stomach. His eyes burned like they had smoke in them as he glared towards Ace's breathing. He didn't move a muscle, save for the ones pushing his lower jaw defiantly forward.   
"Are ya deaf, too? Get 'da wallet out where I can see it!"   
"Mister Ace," Tonk's smooth voice gained a new roughness and dropped almost a full octave, "I'm warning you. Don't do this." The tension in his brow made his antennae arch. "Walk away."   
Ace chuckled. "Yer a funny man. I can be funny, too. Here, I'll show ya."   
Tonkeshin's ears detected the subtle creak of the gun's trigger moving. He grabbed Ace's wrist and wrenched it sideways. Far enough to cause pain, but not far enough to actually damage anything.   
"AAAH!" Ace released a pained cry. The gun fell harmlessly from his grasp. Tonk heard it clatter to the ground at his feet. He covered it with his foot so nobody else could grab it and gave Ace a light shove.   
Ace staggered backwards, his boots scraping on the ground. "Get him, boys!"   
Light footsteps raced up from the right and left. Something rustled on one side. Jingles sounded from the other.   
Bridge leapt. Tonkeshin felt the breeze of his swift approach. He stepped aside and let the gangster land beside him, stopping Canasta in his tracks.   
"Watch out, buffoon!" Bridge snapped.   
Canasta blasted back, "Shaddup and let's get him!"   
"Boss?"   
"Do yer jobs." Ace replied acidly from near the far wall. "Poker, yer staying put 'till I say go."   
The massive man grunted in compliance.   
A switchblade clicked. Clothing rustled. Canasta had the knife, so he was the most dangerous at the moment.   
Footsteps scraped lightly against the rough pavement. They were obviously trying to be silent. Too bad they didn't realize hearing wasn't all Tonk used to fight.   
Tonkeshin concentrated hard on his environment. Focusing on everything around him just as he did during his meditation. He could both feel and hear the air moving against the gangsters' clothing. It told him Canasta was the tallest of the two, and they were circling him.   
Both stopped. One in front. The other behind. Canasta was in the front. Tonkeshin kept more tabs on him than Bridge.   
"You don't have to do this," Tonk's voice remained low and rough.   
No response. He took it as non-compliance.   
Heaving a deep sigh, Tonkeshin bent his knees to square his weight evenly. He brought one arm up across his body, a fist near his face to protect it. The other arm rested slightly forward. He relaxed his muscles enough so he'd have complete freedom of movement.   
Nobody moved. There was only the sounds of everyone breathing and occasional swishes from the ocean. A breeze blew through the alley, cooling the sweat on Tonkeshin's brow and painting a clear sound picture of where everyone stood.   
The presence behind Tonkeshin moved forward first. Tonk remained motionless, feigning unawareness. Just another few feet was all he needed.   
_Yeah, come on, just a little closer._   
Suddenly Bridge was right behind him! Tonkeshin shifted his weight to his left leg and struck his right leg out. He spun in a complete circle. The knife of his foot caught Bridge square in the jaw and sent him flying. Tonk heard his body smash against a nearby dumpster.   
Canasta charged! Tonk pivoted his upper body sideways to dodge the oncoming knife. Canasta's arm passed over his chest. Tonk grabbed the gangster's elbow and stepped into him, using Canasta's own momentum to fling him effortlessly into the wall across the alley.   
"OOF!" Canasta hit with a thud and slid down, the knife clattering to the ground. He moaned and went quiet.   
"I-I-I. . ." Ace gulped audibly. "Poker! Go!"   
The hulking man walked forward. Tonkeshin heard him slap his fist against his palm. He reassumed his fighting stance and waited. This guy was big and thick. That meant he'd probably be slow.   
Poker grunted low in his throat. Tonk sensed his approach. Slow, deliberate steps, perhaps an attempt at intimidation. The big man smelled like cigars. Keeping a bead on him would be easy.   
All motion ceased once again.   
A sigh breezed past Tonk's lips. "Well?"   
Heavy footsteps clomped forward. Poker obviously relied on brute force. To other humans he was probably a fighter to be reckoned with. Tonkeshin threw some caution into the wind. Underestimating an opponent bigger than himself was a good way to lose a battle.   
Poker was less than two feet away. Tonk instinctively lowered his stance so the tall man's punches would be more inclined to pass over his head. He wasn't a second too soon. A massive fist breezed over his cranium. The second followed a heartbeat later. Tonk caught the fist easily. Poker's hands felt hairy. The nails weren't right. They felt like. . .bear claws?   
A paw clubbed Tonkeshin in the side of his head. He would've gone down had he not assumed a stance. More surprised than hurt, he faced Poker again. A bear! He never imagined a walking non-human in a gang. Then again, how could he be sure everyone he spoke to was fully human?   
Movement snapped him from his reverie. Poker was advancing again. He threw a hard left jab.   
"YAAAAH!" Tonkeshin lunged under the outstretched arm. He drove his fist into the gangster's unprotected gut. Poker doubled over. Tonk smashed an elbow down on his back. The massive gangster slammed into the pavement and didn't move again.   
Tonk stood down from his stance and tightened his fist. The knuckles cracked. He heard Cribbage and Euchre approaching.   
"Ace?" Tonk spoke calmly, staring blankly ahead into space, "Do you still want a piece of me?"   
He got his reply in the form of feet scrambling away.   
Tonk sighed and let his shoulders sag. Holding one hand out at waist level, he shuffled over to the nearest wall. He used sounds of the ocean as a guide and trailed the wall until the alley ended.   
The pavement under his feet went from cool to hot. Warm sun beat down on his skin. Sounds of people talking, playing games and laughing once again flooded his keen, pointed ears.   
Tonkeshin turned right and kept trailing the wall without a clue about where he was. Maybe if he could find a door, he'd be able to enter the building and ask for help. Surely someone inside would offer assistance.   
"Tonkeshin?"   
He froze, about-faced and spat, "I want my cane back, and I want it now."   
Carol's presence moved forward. Her smooth hand grasped his wrist and the folded fiberglass cane slid into his fingers.   
Tonk didn't let on just how relieved he was to have his cane back. He stuck it into his back pocket for the moment, faced Carol and tightened his lips. The hot flame he'd almost forgotten began to grow again.   
"Tonkeshin, I'm sorry. I didn't realize - "   
"What?" He cut her off, "You didn't realize I could've gotten killed?"   
For once it was Carol that sounded meek and nervous, "I thought you'd be able to follow the sound of me running away. I didn't know you'd just stand there."   
"You forget the beach is crowded. Even my ears have limits and I can hear better than any human on this planet." Tonkeshin turned and fully faced her. "Just so you know, I almost got mugged because a gangster fooled me into using him as a guide. I could prosecute you for something like that. Personal endangerment."   
Carol drew in a sharp breath. "You can't! I had no idea - "   
"Exactly!" He snarled, baring his teeth. "You had NO idea!"   
Warm hands came to rest on his bare chest. "Don't get mad," she cooed, "it doesn't suit you."   
The fire in Tonkeshin's stomach blazed out of control. He forced himself calm. Grabbing Carol's shoulders, he pushed her up against the wall and pressed his upper body up against hers, startling a gasp from her. The closeness disgusted him, but he was tired of being polite.   
"Ooh, forceful."   
"Is this what you want, Carol?" Tonk turned his eyes towards the source of her breath. He caught her round chin between his thumb and forefinger and lowered his tone, "Are you enjoying this?"   
Carol's jaw muscles moved. Her voice hinted at a smile. "You bet." She arched a leg over his hip.   
Tonkeshin grinned and moved his face closer to hers. Following her breath to her lips. He stopped when their mouths were only an inch apart. "Good, because it's as close as you're ever going to get."   
With that, he shrugged her off and backed away. For the first time in his life he wished he could see - just long enough to witness the look on her face.   
"You. . .you played me!" Carol exploded angrily, "You bastard! I spent a lot of money just to come down here and be with you before your Tournament! And you just blow me off? How dare you!"   
Tonkeshin heard Carol lunge at him. A foot connected solidly with his crotch. He didn't even blink.   
"You. . ." she panted, "where's your. . .you know?"   
"I don't have one."   
"You don't have a _dick?!_" She shrieked loud enough for the whole beach to hear. A few people gasped.   
Tonk felt a laugh building deep in his throat. Her reaction was funnier than he expected.   
"Nope."   
"Then how do you - "   
"I don't. I regurgitate eggs. Here, watch!" Tonkeshin doubled over, opened his eyes wide and feigned gagging.   
"NO! Ew, gross, I don't want to see it! I can't believe I was ever attracted to you. Oh my God!" Carol was already running away. She shouted over her shoulder, "You stay away from me! Hear me? _Stay away!_"   
And then she was gone.   
The laugher Tonkeshin was holding back burst free. He laughed long and hard, not caring who saw or heard. He guffawed all the way back to the hotel and into the silence of his room.   
One steamy shower later, Tonk felt refreshed and relaxed. Any anger he harbored from earlier went down the drain with the water. He still snickered a few times when he emerged from the shower and changed into his favorite satin shirt and jeans.   
The cool breeze blowing in through the window told him the sun was either setting or already down. He even caught a whiff of smoke from a bonfire.   
Another snicker rumbled in Tonkeshin's throat. Telling Carol off felt so good. A nearly perfect end to the whole nightmarish experience.   
Only one thing could make it even better. 
>>> 
>>> "One virgin tropical," The young, giggly waitress plunked a glass down on the bar. She directed her voice to Greg. "And here's your fried lobster and banana swirl. Careful, the plate's hot." Another glass settled onto the smooth bartop along with a plate of seafood. "Enjoy your smoothies. I'll be back in a bit to check up on you."   
"Thanks a lot," Greg slid his smoothie closer and took a long slurp. A second later he was crunching the lobster's shell.   
Tonkeshin heard the waitress's high heels walking away. Scents of other drinks fueled his thirst. He felt the table for his glass, located the straw and took a long drink. The thick, chilled substance cooled his mouth and oozed down his throat.   
"Mmmmm," He leaned back and licked his lips.   
Greg shifted on his stool. "So, are you going to tell me anything about what happened to you today?"   
"I thought you'd never ask." A devilish grin stretched Tonk's lips. He sipped his smoothie once more, swallowed and went on, "You're gonna love this. It all started when I headed out to the beach. . ."   
  

>>> 
>>> Author's note: Phew! Long chapter! I must say though that writing this chapter was the most fun I've had since I started this fic. I hope the action scenes were done okay. grin Admit it, who cheered when Carol got snubbed? I just figured that, after having his blindness used against him and almost getting mugged, Tonk would be mad enough to get rid of her. I didn't plan it that way, it just happened. Smile


	12. 12

> > > >   

>>>> 
>>>> Blending In   
12   
  
". . .and then she ran off screaming that she didn't know why she was ever attracted to me! I wish you were there to see it, it was hilarious at the time."   
"At the time?" The sound of Greg's laughter nearly drowned out the other sounds of other patrons. "You've got to be kidding me! And she thought you were really puking one up?"   
"Yup." Tonkeshin drew the smoothie straw into his mouth for a long slurp. The different flavors tickled his palate. He licked his lips slowly, savoring the taste. "Mm, I've got to find out the recipe for this thing."   
"Geez, ease up or you'll look like me. That's your third smoothie!"   
"Don't blame me for them being so good." He faced Greg's voice and grinned. "Besides, aren't you on your fourth serving of shrimp?"   
Brief silence.   
"Touché."   
Greg's fork clanked down on the wooden tabletop.   
Tonk swirled the straw around his empty glass, lifted it and slurped the remaining flavor off the bottom. He sighed deeply in satisfaction. "Ooh, I think that's enough for me."   
"Heh."   
The amused expression melted from Tonkeshin's face. Now that he'd unwound from the day's events he was able to really think about everything. He stared down towards the tabletop and chewed absently on his straw.   
Greg shifted, making the upholstery in the booth creak. "Something wrong, buddy?"   
"Mmph." He put the straw down.   
"C'mon. I know that look. What's up?"   
"I feel kind of guilty for what I did." Tonkeshin's smooth brow knit. He put the tip of the straw back into his mouth and bit down.   
Greg snorted, "You're kidding me!"   
Tonkeshin sighed, but smiled a little. "I wasn't in my right mind when I scared her like that. I needed someone to blow up at and she just happened to be there. What if she becomes so upset she does something to hurt herself?"   
"I can't believe you feel guilty over this." A huff from Greg showed his displeasure. "She deserved what she got after taking your cane."   
"Yet she didn't realize I wouldn't chase her." Tonkeshin stood up and unfolded his cane. "I'm going to go apologize to her. Any idea where she's staying?"   
More silence. Tonk suspected Greg was shaking his head at him. "Sometimes I swear your conscience runs in overdrive. Anyway, you don't have to worry about finding Carol. She's been standing outside the window with a cigarette for the past ten minutes."   
He went on, "Want me to come with you? In case she freaks?"   
A shake of Tonkeshin's head indicated a 'no'.   
"Everybody has a reason for behaving the way they do. Whether it be how they were brought up or some other event in their lives. It's possible that Carol wasn't always like this."   
"Tch, go on then. Just don't whine to me if she decides to stalk you again." The irritation in Greg's voice didn't escape Tonk's notice.   
Tonkeshin rolled his eyes. Something he knew people did when they were annoyed. He touched the back of Greg's chair to confirm his sense of direction and headed towards the door.   
Blasts of cool night air greeted him when he stepped outside. Sounds of chatter, clinking silverware and scraping chairs all faded behind the glass door.   
Tonk shorelined from the door to the corner of the building. Cigarette smoke permeated his nose. Carol wasn't far away.   
"Carol?"   
Someone exhaled noisily. Tonkeshin almost missed it because of the surf in the background. More smoke swirled past his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose.   
Footsteps scraped the sand.   
"Is that you, Carol?"   
"Nope," An elderly male voice said, "There's a lady around the corner though, if that's who you're looking for."   
"Thanks."   
The smoky scent continued on by. Tonk heard the door open and close behind him. He steeled himself, gripped the handle of his cane a little tighter and padded softly around the corner, one hand on the wall so he wouldn't smash his shoulder on the hard bricks.   
"You've got some nerve to come out here after today." Carol said angrily. The turpentine scent of a martini wafted off either her breath or from a drink in her hand. He couldn't tell which, but he knew it was pretty strong. "What you did was humiliating."   
Tonk hung his head. "Yeah, I know. That's why I came out here. To apologize for how I acted."   
Carol huffed and gulped, confirming his suspicions about her martini. "I bet that fat asshole put you up to this."   
"No, actually he tried to discourage me from coming out."   
She puffed angrily on her cigarette. "Why should I believe you? You were _laughing_ your ass off, Tonkeshin!"   
"At the time it was funny. I'd had a hellish day and you just happened to be the release. I feel bad about that, Carol. Honestly, if I was thinking clearly I wouldn't have been so rude. I had hoped we could just sit down and talk about what's going on between us."   
"What's to talk about?"   
Tonk ventured towards Carol's voice. He flipped his cane into the pencil grip and leaned on the rough wooden table where she was sitting. "Well, getting infatuated with me was probably a big mistake. Mostly it's my fault for running like a scared toddler instead of just confronting you right away. I feel like I led you on when that wasn't my intention."   
There was a last puff, then scraping as Carol snuffed her cigarette out on the tabletop. "Could've fooled me. I never imagined you being a shy guy. Humph. You probably hate me now anyway."   
"No, that's why I'm here. To patch things up. Otherwise we'd just be uncomfortable around each other at work and every other place we happen to meet." Tonkeshin stared ahead. The scent from her drink made his nose itch. "I just don't want to ignore you and later find out you went crazy and killed yourself or something. Then I'd really feel horrible."   
No answer. Just the surf sizzling and hissing against the sand.   
Tonk was beginning to think Carol left, but she finally spoke, "Do you really cough up eggs to have babies?"   
"Uh-huh." He folded his cane and decided to sit down. Putting the cane in his back pocket, he clasped his hands on the tabletop.   
"Does it hurt?"   
"I imagine so. Haven't tried it myself, yet. Maybe someday in the future." A cool breeze made his antennae twitch. "I've heard someone else lay eggs though. Sounds pretty painful."   
"I think you'd make a great dad." Her freezing cold hands touched lightly against his knuckles.   
Tonkeshin instinctively enfolded her fingers between his palms to warm them. Something he always used to do for newborns when they caught a chill. Taking care of babies on Namek was one of his favorite duties. He clearly remembered how, on a really hot day, little Cargo hatched right into his arms while he was turning his egg. The first time he ever witnessed the miracle of birth.   
Then there was a quiet hiss of exhaled breath. Carol moved her fingers gently against his palms. "You have such strong hands."   
Warmth entered his cheekbones. "Hm. . .never really thought of them like that."   
Another long silence. The ocean's hiss made everything else seem miles away. Even the diner less than ten feet away.   
"I want to have a baby," Carol sighed. The way her monologue came out suggested she had her head turned. Her words were slurring a little, she was drunk. "But last year I found out I can't." Her voice cracked. "I was hoping for a miracle. That a one night stand might get lucky. God, I'm so stupid, aren't I?"   
A frown creased Tonkeshin's brow. "Why can't you have kids?"   
She didn't answer for a long time. There was only quiet, muffled sobs. Then she whispered, "I got pregnant while I was in high school. My parents would've kicked me out of the house if they found out, so I went to a disgusting back-alley clinic and had an abortion. I never told anybody, not even my best friends. But the technician. . .my specialist said the technician scraped out too much with dirty instruments. It caused an infection and scarring. It's called Asherman's Syndrome or something like that."   
The cool hands between Tonk's palms clasped together. "And here I thought acting like a slut would bring out a miracle. 'Oh boy, if human men don't work, let's try Tonkeshin! Maybe he'll have some magical cure!'"   
Another pause. Bitter laughter. "I don't know why I just told you all that. You probably don't even care."   
"Of course I care." Tonkeshin squeezed Carol's hands. "I'm sorry to hear about your problems, but I'm glad you told me about them. Now I know your intentions weren't entirely malicious. . .Carol," He patted her wrists to get her attention.   
"What?"   
"I forgive you, okay? Don't beat yourself up. Why don't we just forget this ever happened and be friends again? I know it won't fix your infertility problems, but at least we'll both feel a little better about what happened between us."   
"But I still have feelings for you, Tonkeshin. That won't just go away."   
Tonk closed his eyes and sighed softly through his nose. "Carol, you know I can't return your feelings the way you want me to."   
Carol pulled a hand free. The other gripped his left hand tightly. "I know." She sobbed, "That's what makes it so hard. I'm glad you can't see me right now, I look like a wreck. . ."   
"That's the advantage of hanging around with me." He smiled, trying to make her feel better. "I wouldn't notice if you had potatoes coming out of your nose unless you told me."   
The joke worked. Her sobbing hitched into a faint giggle, then resumed. "Stop making me laugh while I'm crying."   
"Sorry, won't happen again."   
More sniffles and giggles mixed with sobs. "This is why I like you so much. It's impossible to feel bad for long when you're around. How do you stay so happy all the time?"   
"Well I. . ." It really wasn't an easy question to answer. Being jovial and in a good mood was just in Tonkeshin's nature.   
He chose his words carefully, "I guess I just don't see a reason to dwell on whatever goes wrong in my life.   
"If my cane catches in a crack and breaks while I'm walking to work, I could easily be angry and stew over it for the rest of the day, which would just make the workday miserable. Or I could just be mad for an instant and laugh at how silly I must look while I fumble my way back home to get the spare. An adventure like that makes for good stories to tell over lunch anyway.   
"Come to think of it," Tonk grinned, "heh, heh, I must've looked pretty goofy walking down the beach with my head hanging to my chest."   
Carol laughed quietly between sobs. She pulled her other hand free. Tonkeshin heard her clothing rustle on the bench. Then the gurgling hiss as she blew her nose. More sniffing, though this time her nose sounded clearer than before.   
An odd silence came between them after that. Mostly there was just noises from Carol fiddling with a compact and the contents of whatever bag she was carrying. She eventually went quiet. He could feel her eyes staring at him.   
"What is it?"   
Carol replied, "You're looking right at my eyes. Even from up close, I almost forgot you're - "   
"Oh." Tonkeshin felt warmth slither into his cheeks. "If it bothers you, I can look somewhere else."   
"No, don't."   
Another quiet instant.   
Carol seemed to be toiling internally with something. When she spoke again, her voice carried an odd tone. Somewhat husky, but subdued and reserved at the same time. "Tonkeshin?"   
"Hm?"   
"Let me kiss you." She cut him off before he could reply, "Please. Just once. I'll never ask you again after this. Just one time, that's all."   
The fire burned hotter behind Tonkeshin's face. His antennae twitched. He hoped it was too dark outside for Carol to see his face. Doubtful, considering she fixed her makeup.   
Though the thought of kissing made Tonk uncomfortable, he pondered going through with it. Carol was so sad, he felt he owed it to her after all the grief he caused her during the afternoon.   
"Okay." He resigned himself, stood up and walked to her side of the table. "But forgive me if I'm clumsy. I've never done this before."   
"Don't worry about it." Carol got to her feet as well.   
Tonkeshin just stood there. Suddenly two arms wrapped around him, soft fingers interlocking against the back of his neck. He honestly didn't know what to do, and just allowed Carol to pull his head down to her level. There was a brief bombardment of her martini-cigarette breath. Tonk struggled not to show his displeasure towards the smell.   
Then her moist lips touched lightly on his. He opened his mouth a little(something Greg said he should do when a girl kisses him) and just let Carol do all the work. Her lips molded his to her will. No tongues, which he was glad for.   
Just when Tonkeshin thought the moment would never end, Carol pulled back. Her hands removed themselves from the back of his neck. She backed away a step.   
"Your lips are soft."   
"Thanks. Uhh, yours are very wet. . .um, I mean, slippery. . .uhhh," Tonk blinked. That didn't sound right! He rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. His entire face felt like it was on fire. "I mean, ah shoot, it wasn't too bad."   
Carol chuckled self-consciously. "Well I hope you remember it for a long time. I sure will."   
"Yeah, I suppose so."   
"I guess I should go now. It's getting cold out and I don't have my sweater with me." She gathered up whatever belongings she'd set down on the tabletop. "I'll be at the Tournament to watch you fight."   
"Cool, I hope I do good." Tonk smiled and raised a hand to wave. "Bye, Carol, drink a lot of water so you don't get a hangover."   
"I will."   
Then she was gone. Her footsteps retreated until the surf shrouded them from his hearing. He faced the ocean and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth.   
Tonk was glad he made Carol happy, even if it cost him some of his dignity. One less thing to worry about before the Tournament.   
Carol would have something happy to remember.   
Tonk didn't have the heart to tell her his memory of their kiss would only consist of having his neck pulled down at an uncomfortable angle and the nasty smell of her breath just before her slick lips planted themselves on his.   
And then came the applause of an entire diner full of people that witnessed the event.   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Yeah I know, angsty chapter eh? 
>>>> 
>>>> Pleaaaaaaaaaaase don't be all mad at me for having Tonk and Carol make up. I didn't want her to be a cookie cutter antagonist that's just out there to be a pain in the butt. I also wanted to prove that forgiveness can mend many wounds. It doesn't make things okay, but it shows you're willing to move on. 
>>>> 
>>>> Don't worry, the action will be picking up soon. smile


	13. 13

> > > > Quick note: Longer than usual chapter ahead.   
  
  
  

>>>> 
>>>> Blending In   
13   
  
Tonkeshin felt like he needed a better workout routine. Something to make him tight after the day was over. Just one last burst of training to top off his increase in strength.   
Two days ago, he tried jogging up and down the embankment behind the hotel. It became less challenging within three hours. He made attempts at sprinting in the wet sand, but all it did was increase his heart rate. Lifting boulders was out of the question - too many people would freak out. Swimming didn't offer much improvement either.   
He needed something more.   
"Aww, don't get so depressed. Maybe the receptionist at the front of the hotel can point you to a good place." Greg told him. The rest of what he said got muffled behind his hamburger. "I wouldn't be surprised if she pointed you to the gym though."   
"You need the gym." Tonk joked.   
"Yeah, I need - hey, green beanhead!" Greg socked his shoulder and laughed, "Get outta here and go work out. I'll go sightseeing until you get back."   
"Okay then. See you, hamburger breath." 
>>>> 
>>>> Clanking metal. People grunting. Music. Whirring machinery. Shoes squeaking. Chatter. Power drinks. Sweat. Old clothes. Freshly applied deodorant. Air conditioning. A hard tile floor.   
Those were the different sensations that bombarded Tonkeshin as he opened the glass door. Greg was right, the receptionist did point him to the gym right next door!   
Tonk lowered the hood of his pullover sweatshirt. A sweep of his hand removed the raindrops from his lycra shorts. It was raining lightly when he stepped outside and walked here. Now warmth bathed him. The sun was popping out.   
_Hm, looks like it's not going to rain all day like the weatherman thought. . .oh well, this place'll be a good spot to work out_.   
Putting the tip of his cane against the corner of the door frame, Tonkeshin swept it in a complete arc until he touched the opposite corner. Nothing in his immediate path except for a bumpy rubber floormat.   
And the pounding beat from someone's boombox.   
Tonk extended a hand at waist level to catch anything sticking out above the reach of his cane. He let the door swing shut behind him, cutting off the clean smell of a morning after rain. Two steps left him standing right on the floormat his cane located before. He reached up to adjust his shades. His fingers encountered skin. Woops, he forgot the sunglasses. They were probably still sitting on top of the TV in his hotel room. Oh well.   
He sighed to himself and turned his head. Using his large, pointed ears like sonar receivers, he pinpointed the locations of different equipment and people.   
Treadmills, stair-steppers and bikes lined the right wall. Weights and resistance machinery on the left. The aerobic area was just ahead - obvious because of the music and a shrill woman's voice counting off.   
"And one, and two, and three, keep those bodies moving! And four, and five, and six. . .now twist! Two, three, four. . .and twist! Two, three, four. . .that's it, keep it up!"   
Tonkeshin turned left. He really had to tap his cane hard to hear it on the polished floor. Locating the wall didn't take long.   
It seemed like an out-of-the-way spot. Tonk leaned his cane against the wall and went about stretching his muscles. First his arms, then his neck and sides. He finished off by sliding into all forms of the splits and throwing a few kicks higher than his head. Checking to make sure he was completely loose.   
"Hmmm," Tonk muttered to himself. _Where should I start? I don't even know a thing about the weight equipment this planet uses. . .except for the difference between barbells and dumbbells. Oh well, I'll figure it out on my own if I poke around_.   
He felt the rack behind him. His hands encountered a cold metal bar with thick disks on either side. Aha, dumbbells. He picked two up and did a few easy curls. No resistance at all. A frown creased his brow. _Hm, it's about thirty pounds by raw guessing. I need something heavier_.   
Tonk put the dumbbells down where he found them, grabbed his cane and explored the rack some more. The dumbbells gave way to huge, heavy disks.   
Suddenly, a loud clank sounded off to Tonkeshin's right. There was the angry muttering of one man and the chuckling of two others.   
"Man, I can't get past three-fifty!" growled a deep, watery voice.   
"C'mon, Mac, you've been at it for an hour. Take a rest," said a higher voice, which was punctuated by a sneeze.   
"Well I gotta go. Work calls." Added the third person. Footsteps retreated.   
"Later, Angus!" The other two replied.   
"Excuse me," Tonkeshin faced the sound of a duffle bag being zipped. Whoever these guys were, they were sweating up a storm.   
The noises stopped. He felt two pairs of eyes staring at him.   
"Yeah?" It was Mac, the one with the watery voice. "Oh hey! You're the blind guy I saw on the news a while back! You really lookin' to train here for a bit?"   
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Tonk chuckled, "I'm looking for something heavy and the dumbbells here aren't enough. How about. . .oh. . .the heaviest barbell. Know where I can find it?"   
The guy with Mac snickered. He was cut off when Mac said, "Why don't you try pressing this thing on the bench right next to you? It's three-fifty."   
"What? This?" Tonk curled his left hand around the middle of the barbell and lifted it almost as easily as he did the dumbbells. He gave it a few test pumps. "You know, this would be a good warm up. Thanks!"   
Silence.   
Tonkeshin hardly noticed it. He treated the barbell like an oversized dumbbell, doing presses, rows and curls. He completed his weight warm-up with a few lunges and squats. It didn't make him breathe hard, but his muscles felt nice and hot.   
Smiling, he let Mac and the other guy guide the barbell back into the rack.   
"Thanks. . .is there anything heavier?"   
More silence.   
Mac cleared his throat. "Um. . .hey Norm, go get this guy another hundred."   
"Sure!" The smaller man replied.   
Tonkeshin heard soft grunting. The clank of new weights being slid onto the barbell.   
"Okay, try now."   
Tonk lifted it. He shook his head and put it down. "More."   
"More?!" Norm gasped. "Hey, Mac, you go this time. Get another one-fifty. Lesse if this guy can take six hundred!"   
Tonkeshin honestly didn't understand their surprise. He hadn't learned yet that not everyone on the planet was as strong as he was. Yes there were others stronger, like Piccolo and a few more he'd been sensing intermittently over the past few days, but he came from a planet where lifting many times more than his own body weight was normal.   
_Hmm. . .I guess most of the human race here never learned to tap into their inner ki. What a shame_.   
More clanking sounds woke him from his reverie.   
"Six hundred." Mac finished snapping the disks into place. His sneakers squeaked their way around the bench. "Okay, it's all set. You sure you don't wanna lay down and press it right?"   
"Maybe after I've burned everything else." Tonk smiled politely. He stretched his hand out to locate the barbell again.   
This time it provided some good resistance. Tonkeshin felt himself tighten in all the right places when he performed the same exercises as before.   
Mac and Norm never made a sound while Tonk worked out. In fact, he realized, they were moving away. By the time he'd finished his routine they were slamming the door.   
"Hey!" He called after them, "Was it something I said?"   
Well, there went his help with the weights.   
Tonkeshin didn't dare sling the barbell around to find the rack. He lowered it to the floor and groped for his cane. His fingers encountered something else along the way.   
The hard rubber-coated roundness of a weight plate attached to a long barbell. The disk itself had to be at least as big around as a car tire. Just like the ones used in sports competitions.   
"Well, hello there, beautiful." Tonk grinned. He'd read about these things. It was exactly what he'd been looking for.   
Pulling his pullover off and discarding it by the wall, he fumbled his way around the barbell. Excitement bubbled in his stomach. He rubbed his palms across the weight disks and the bar itself. It had to weigh at least eight hundred pounds.   
_Perfect!_   
Tonkeshin wiped his hands off on his shorts. He squatted in front of the barbell and gripped it from underneath. It was solid. He stood up slowly, pulling the barbell up to his knees. Then he curled his arms up to his chest. The effort made him grunt. He felt his pectorals, biceps and shoulders all flex in liquid sequence.   
_Oh yeah, this is what I'm looking for!_ Tonk thought to himself with a grin.   
He hefted the bar onto his shoulders and did some squats until his his legs and butt felt like they'd spontaneously combust. Then he switched to pumping the weight overhead - first he lowered the bar to his chest, then he'd lift it up and ease it down onto his shoulders. All done quickly to maximize the explosive bursts of energy in his muscles.   
Everything else disappeared. Only the weight, his body in motion and his breathing existed in the universe. Nothing else.   
Tonk relished every moment of his workout. The sweat beading all over his skin. His pounding heart. How his muscles flexed and burned. All the energy going into each movement.   
_"Always work to near exhaustion, but never to the point where you can't move. If you can't hold up your own body weight after training, you've done too much."_ Nail used to tell him.   
Tonkeshin lowered the barbell after a half hour of non-stop lifting. He straightened and arched his back, curling down into a handstand. The cold, padded floor felt good against his sweaty palms.   
Not even the faintest waver. He raised himself to his fingertips and curled all but his index fingers. Still no waver. He lowered back to flat hands, did sideways splits and turned right side up while still maintaining balance on his palms. His muscles rewarded him with a slow burning sensation. He smiled and raised himself back into a full handstand. Pulling his legs together again, he stretched himself until he swore his feet would touch the ceiling. So relaxing and comfortable and -   
"Hey, buddy, are you gonna hog up the mat all day, or are you gonna let someone else use the olympic 'bell?"   
Startled, Tonkeshin lost his balance. He toppled forward and crashed face-first into the metal bar on the barbell.   
"Owww!" He sat up, clutching his head. A fall like that would've killed him if he was a normal human.   
The rude weightlifter didn't offer any apology.   
"Sorry." Tonkeshin mumbled anyway, standing up. The barbell tripped him when he went for his shirt. He took another spill.   
"Dude, what are you? Blind?"   
Tonk laughed into his shirt. He didn't speak until he'd freed his face from the cloth. "Actually," he shuffled to the powerlifting benches, groped twice and picked up his cane, "I am."   
A gasp sounded from the burly man, "Oh geez, I'm sorry. I didn't know! You ain't hurt are you?"   
"Naw, I've taken worse bumps than that." Tonk grinned towards the weightlifter. "Enjoy your workout."   
The other guy sounded relieved. Probably afraid of a lawsuit. "Sure, sure. Later."   
That didn't keep Tonk from rolling his eyes as he walked away. A quick jog on the treadmill and then he'd take a break for a while to let his muscles recover.   
He approached the nearest treadmill with mild trepidation. Wait, why was he afraid of a silly exercise machine?   
Tonk leaned his cane against the wall and stepped onto the treadmill. He touched the control panel - no braille. _Great._ But quick sweep of his hand let him find the buttons. A large square one flanked by smaller rubbery rectangles. Up above was a plastic panel that probably displayed digital readouts.   
He pressed the large button. The treadmill whirred to life, but the belt didn't move.   
Frustration trickled up Tonkeshin's nerves. Asking someone to help him with a stupid treadmill would just make him look as helpless as the news was making him out to be. He'd figure this thing out if it killed him!   
And it nearly did.   
Sweeping his fingers to the right, Tonk pressed the button furthest from what he assumed to be the "start" key.   
The belt jerked up into a shallow incline and sprang into motion at maximum speed. Tonkeshin lost his footing. He landed chin-first on the moving belt. One of the drawstrings on his pullover got yanked in and wound about the wheel turning the belt. It cinched the jacket tight around his neck.   
"Ack!"   
With his air supply cut off, Tonk almost panicked. He pounded the buttons to no avail. Finally he used his sharp thumbnail to slice the drawstring off and let the machine have it. So much for the forty dollar pullover.   
At the same time he found his own bullheadedness hilarious. How funny he must've looked, fumbling with a silly treadmill. Laughter bubbled up in his throat. He rubbed the back of his head and reached for his cane, grinning like an idiot. "Okay. . .that's it. . .I'm sticking to weights!" 
>>>> 
>>>> Tonk spent the next few days working out with the olympic barbell. If he wasn't drinking, peeing, showering or sleeping, he was exercising with the weights.   
He only needed to sleep once every other night. And nights were boring. Nothing was open except for the casinos across the street.   
So he'd sneak into the gym and exercise. The door didn't lock very well and just a pass of his hotel room's key card between the door and the frame usually let him right in.   
Training while completely alone left Tonkeshin quiet, peaceful and content. Nobody around to yell at him for using the equipment as he saw fit. Like doing handstand push-ups with two thirty pound dumbbells strapped to his bare feet.   
He'd finish it all off with a relaxing meditation on an empty beach. Only the ocean and wind kept him company.   
His mind was clear. No worrying about work, the Tournament or how he'd deal with his bills when he got home. Just endless calm. 
>>>> 
>>>> Tonkeshin awoke after the best few hours of sleep he'd ever had. He rolled over in bed and fiddled with his watch.   
"The time is now. . .four-thirty a.m.." the watch told him.   
He sat up, tugged the top sheet off his braille tabletop calendar and read the new date aloud, "May seventh."   
A smile formed. Excitement formed a bubble in his stomach, "This is the day I've been working for."   
Tonk dropped to the floor for some pushups. Then he steamed himself in a long, cleansing shower to loosen himself up. After he washed and rinsed, he just stood there and let the spray pour down over his skin. Mentally preparing himself for the day's events.   
Feeling around in front of himself, Tonkeshin turned off the shower and stepped out. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed back into the room.   
It was too quiet.   
Tonk pulled out his discman and buried his head in the headphones while he laid out his clothes for the day. One set to be donned soon, the other to be put on at the Tournament.   
Like a good omen, the unmistakable first chords of his favorite song played first. He couldn't help but hop in place like an excited little kid on Christmas as he pulled on his boxers and zipped up his jeans. His shirt buttoned, so donning it with headphones on wasn't a problem.   
He was practically dancing to the beat when he laid his Tournament outfit in the duffle bag. Along with it were some water bottles, a jar of petroleum jelly to grease himself up, his spare cane and his meditation book in case he got bored. Doubtful, but just in case.   
Next, he dialed Greg's cellphone and left a voicemail, "Greg, I'm heading off early to check the arena out. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. This is it! I'll see you there." The cellphone then found a home in his back pocket.   
A few moments later found a wildly-grinning Tonkeshin speeding away from the hotel in a taxi. 
>>>> 
>>>> The actual arena was more massive than he imagined. Just getting to it was a long walk. Tonk felt his cane bump something hard. He stretched a hand out to touch the hard stone surface.   
_The ring. . .this is where it's going to happen!_ Tonk closed his eyes and smiled, climbing up onto the fighting floor. His vivid imagination let him feel, hear and smell the people filing in, cheering and carrying on.   
"Time to see how big this thing is."   
Tonkeshin tapped his way across the fighting floor. One side to the other, then corner to corner. Bigger than he imagined!   
He put his toes on the edge of the ring, bent his knees and whip-backed to the opposite side. Then he spun and ran from one corner to the other. Letting his excitement flood out in his crazy gyrations. After he got that out of his system, he just stood there in the middle of the ring and stared blankly towards the sky.   
_Thump_.   
"Have fun?"   
Tonkeshin startled at the raspy voice. He faced the source and grinned, "Hey, Piccolo! Yeah, I had to get some of the excitement out of my system somehow. Today's the day."   
"Yeah." A swish sounded. Piccolo climbed onto the fighting floor. He came closer, which made his soft voice seem louder. "Your power's increased a lot since we last met."   
Closer than Tonkeshin expected! He raised his head and eyes more towards Piccolo's face. "I've been training pretty hard for the past few days." Tonk rubbed his neck and grinned, "The people in the gym didn't like me being there much for whatever reason."   
". . .gym?"   
"Nevermind." He chuckled, "So what brings you here so early?"   
Piccolo's voice muffled, he was looking away, "Wondering why the heck you're here at the buttcrack of dawn." He sighed almost in delight, "Sun's just coming up over the east wall."   
Tonkeshin felt warmth graze his left ear. He faced its source and exhaled noisily. "Well I guess I wanted to check this place out before I have to sign in. Don't want to get lost."   
"I could show you around a bit." Piccolo was walking away again. He didn't speak until he'd returned to the spot he just vacated, "Here, it's your cane."   
"Thanks." Tonk stretched a hand out to grasp the leather handle. "Oh! I've been sensing some pretty strong powers over the last couple of days. Know who it is?"   
"You'll find out soon enough, Tonkeshin. Coming?" Piccolo was already moving off to the right. His tone suggested a smile - something Tonk guessed was a rarity on him.   
"Hey, wait for me!" He followed Piccolo down a few steps and onto a walkway made of the same material as the ring. It rattled and crackled against the tip of his cane. Grass flanked the pathway. Good, it would be the perfect shoreline later.   
"Once the Tournament begins," Piccolo started when they passed through a doorway, "There will be an object in front of this archway. You'll have to step around it to reach the path to ring."   
"Okay."   
"This is where the warriors usually mill around when their match is coming up. Nothing much here except a drinking fountain in the back. There's two doorways, one on the left and one on the right. The left is the locker room, the right leads to a hallway containing a cafeteria on the right and bathrooms and showers on the left. If you get lost, I think the rooms are labeled with that bumpy language you read with your fingers."   
"Braille, you mean." Tonkeshin chuckled, "Cool."   
"Hm."   
He couldn't stand it anymore. Turning fully to Piccolo, he asked, "You seem so gosh-darned familiar, Piccolo. Like I've known you for a long time, yet we've only met a few times."   
Piccolo swished an article of his clothing. Whatever it was, it seemed to flow loosely. His strong hand came down on Tonk's shoulder, "If you defeat me in the Tournament, I'll answer all your questions."   
"Okay then. . .and if I win. . ." He thought for a moment, "I'll bring you the best smoothie this island has to offer. Trust me, you'll like it."   
That actually got a small snort of a laugh from the other Namek.   
"It's a deal."   
Tonkeshin grinned, winked one eye and gave Piccolo a thumbs up.   
More voices sounded. Tonk turned towards them, "What's going on out there?"   
"They're getting ready to start signing people in." Once again, Piccolo was walking away on those quiet feet of his. "I'd advise you to get signed in before it gets too crowded. Otherwise you'll be stuck in a long line. Come, I'll lead you."   
"Right, thanks a lot." Tonk struggled to contain the excitement bubbling inside him like carbonation in soda. He just wanted to skip, flip and cheer until exhaustion calmed him down.   
It was really happening! Today was the Tournament!   
He paused, briefly and turned back towards the fighting floor. A smile curled his lips upwards. He resumed his original path, guided by the tap of his cane and the swish of Piccolo's clothing.   
_In a few hours I'll be fighting in this arena. This is so exciting, I can't wait! Just one more thing to make it truly real._   
"Name?"   
"Tonkeshin."   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: There you go, it's Tournament day! I know this chapter was pretty long, but I didn't want to break it up any more than I had to. smile I also added the goofy gym routine to lighten the mood after last chapter's angst. Treadmills and Nameks just don't mix. chuckles 
>>>> 
>>>> And in case you missed it, Angus, Mac and Norm are all puns on restaurants around where I live - Black Angus, MacDonald's and Norm's. 
>>>> 
>>>> I didn't mention it in the story, but Tonk's favorite song is _Clocks_ by Coldplay. No it isn't my personal favorite(oddly, I have several ultra favorite songs, too many to name), I just imagine him as liking a song like that - and it happened to be on the radio while I was writing this, lol. peace sign Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It'll get wild later on!


	14. 14

> > > >   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Blending In   
14   
  
Metal lockers slammed shut. Contestants chattered amongst themselves. Various scents wafted off bodies. People shifted around and bags zipped or unzipped. Clothes rustled and plopped on the floor.   
Tonkeshin smiled to himself. He finished tying his belt and lovingly slid into the knee-length vest. Nail's vest, now his. It didn't fit him as well since his shoulders weren't as broad as Nail's, but the difference wasn't noticable to anyone who didn't know Nail. The leather-like material of the vest and linen of his baggy pants felt wonderful against his skin. Almost like he was home again.   
It'd been awhile since he wore his full Namekian attire. Too long.   
_If only Nail could see me now_. . .   
Tonk swept a hand through his duffle bag, searching. He produced the petroleum jelly and went to work spreading a very thin layer over all exposed skin. Smiling when he noticed how dense his muscles had become.   
Greg once told him professional wrestlers sometimes used petroleum jelly to give their skin a bronzy shine. Maybe it'd have the same effect for him, too.   
Smack! A fist slammed into a palm.   
"Yeah, I'm so going to beat all those losers!" said a growling voice from the far end of the locker room.   
Grumbling answered it. Somebody uttered a rude word.   
"Get real, Lobo." replied another competitor. "You'll just get smacked right out of the ring."   
"Shaddup!"   
"Asshole. Bite me!"   
"You wish!"   
"Grr!"   
Tonkeshin closed his locker and unfolded his cane. Better to get out before the taunting got ugly. He'd chosen the first locker by the door, so getting outside without being noticed didn't take much effort.   
That is, until he bumped head on into someone who wasn't watching where they were going.   
Thump.   
"Oof! Oh, excuse - hey, Tonkeshin! It's Trunks. How's it going?"   
"Excuse me." He blinked at the voice, turning his eyes towards its source. "Hi, Trunks! I'm pumped. How about you? Where's Goten?"   
"He's talking to his girlfriend. Every week he has another one." Trunks sounded displeased. "Pretty soon he won't want to hang out with me at all. The dork."   
Tonk chuckled at the teenager's venting. "Ah, don't worry about it. Maybe he'll get tired of women once he gets dumped enough."   
"Dunno. Well, I gotta go change and stuff. I'll see you later."   
"Sure, see ya later."   
_Well that was interesting_.   
Tonkeshin let Trunks pass and continued on his way. He emerged into the sun's warmth. It beat down hard from directly overhead - it was probably around noon by sheer guessing. No way to know for sure, he'd taken his watch off and left it in his other pants pocket.   
The place had magically filled up in the fifteen minute void while he was changing into his Tournament outfit.   
People bustled by in groups. Talking, laughing and carrying on. Various food odors wafted into his nose. Shoes scuffed and tapped. Sometimes he felt the vibration of someone running. Occasional cameras clicked - he even posed with people for a few.   
The calm order of the whole arena was gone. The sound shadows Tonk relied on were distorted by the presence of bodies, concession stands and decorations. Worse, he couldn't look around for a familiar face, but didn't want to advertise his being lost by asking strangers for directions.   
He turned his head this way and that, trying to discern something familiar. His heart squeezed in on itself.   
_ Now what?_   
"Lost?" Piccolo's scratchy bass came from the left.   
Tonkeshin spun to face his savior, both relieved and embarrassed that he'd been found out. He extended a hand to confirm Piccolo's location and encountered a hard bicep less than an arm's length away. The muscle flexed, but didn't pull back.   
"Yeah, a little." Tonk smiled sheepishly, "Sensing the buildings was a lot easier when it was quiet."   
A monotone response, "Probably should've warned you about the crowds. Live and learn. Just stay with me and I will lead you to the right places at the right times."   
"Hey, thanks! I feel safer around you anyway. Less chance of being tackled by love struck girls."   
Brief silence.   
". . .feh."   
A small laugh rumbled in Tonkeshin's throat. Piccolo seemed to have even less experience with women than he did.   
"Mmh." Piccolo rumbled. Tonk felt the swish of his clothes when he turned to face another direction.   
Several powers of varying intensity brushed Tonkeshin's senses. Each throbbing in their own distinct rhythm like little bass woofers inside his head. He faced their sources.   
_The same powers I sensed on and off throughout the years, heh, how cool. They must've been the ones involved in the fights I felt over time. The fights Dende told me about. I guess that's what I get for ignoring the news stations during the so-called Cell Games_.   
One rose high above the others. It sent ice shards down Tonk's spine. Familiar, very familiar.   
Saiyajin. No question about it.   
Folds formed on Tonkeshin's nose. He felt his lips draw back into a snarl that bore his fangs. Elation became anger. That power. . .the last time he remembered feeling it this strongly was on Namek. When Saichirou's entire village fell victim to an attack.   
_I should've been there, but I was off gathering fresh water for the wounded a few miles away. . .how dare he show up here!_   
The ki reading came closer. Twenty feet. Fifteen feet. Ten feet.   
"Nobody told me _he_ would be here," Tonk's voice came out in a growl. He clenched his fists until his pointed nails dented his palms, blank eyes glaring towards the power. A knot grew in his stomach. Blood pulsed through the veins in his head. It roared and churned through his ears and behind his eyes. Boiling in rage. His anger wouldn't be contained! Not for this person.   
Piccolo hedged, "Tonkeshin, ease off."   
"No, it's Vegeta! That jackass destroyed my village!" He dropped his cane and leapt straight towards the high ki signature. "BASTARD!"   
"What the?!"   
**WHAM!**   
A fist slammed into Tonkeshin's face, distorting it. The impact tossed him several feet backwards. He landed on his feet. Barely. His head felt light. Weight pressed down on him from all directions, forcing him to his knees. The world swam and disappeared.   
Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with blood oozing down past his ears and pouring down his throat, filling his mouth with a bitter iron taste. Instinct told him his nose was most likely broken.   
Silence had settled over the area. People were standing all around, whispering. Piccolo's hands rested on his shoulders.   
"Unh, where'd that disgusting Saiyajin go? Someone has to. . .has to stop him before he hurts someone else!"   
"Stop it," Piccolo hissed. He punctuated it by squeezing down with his hands. "There is a lot you don't know about Vegeta now. He's here to compete and nothing more. Keep your anger off him."   
Tonkeshin jerked upright, dizzy and groggy. Nausea almost robbed him of the water he drank earlier. Probably from all the blood he swallowed.   
He focused solely on his nose for a moment. Feeling the cartilage rearrange back into its correct shape. The bleeding stopped. He exhaled forcefully to blast the remaining blood out of his nasal cavity and used a small ki wave to clean off.   
Piccolo hauled him to his feet.   
"He obliterated my village!" Tonk spat once he'd regained a vertical base. "Those who died at his hand weren't brought back! I can't let something like that go unpunished!"   
"Yeah, but Vegeta's changed over the years." A tenor voice joined in. "It's a long story, but after leaving the fight with Freeza he made a home here. He's helped fight to save the planet quite a few times. Even got married and had some kids."   
"Gohan speaks the truth." Piccolo stated flatly, taking his hands off Tonk's arms.   
Anger melted to a tolerable level. Hard to believe, but Tonk figured that if they were lying, the strong powers would've gone after Vegeta as soon as he entered the area.   
Ouch, his pride felt that one.   
"I'm sorry," he said softly. Lifting his head with an eye winked shut, he rubbed the back of his neck and laughed, his voice coming back up to its usual baritone smoothness. "It's just an old sore spot. Egad, I guess I deserved a fist in the face for digging up an age-old vendetta like that, eh?"   
Nobody commented.   
Facing where he last heard the tenor voice, he extended a hand and said, "You're Gohan, right? I think Piccolo said your name. Well I'm Tonkeshin. What a way to meet someone."   
A strong, slightly scarred hand closed around his and shook firmly. "Yeah, I'm Gohan. I heard about you on the news."   
"Ah. You competing?"   
"Nah, I'm gonna watch. Same with Krillin, Eighteen and Bulma, but they're not here right now. Off getting food. Er, Videl? Where'd she go?"   
"With Krillin, Eighteen and Bulma," said Piccolo. "Bra and Maron are off looking at clothing. I thought I heard them saying they'd be back in time for the preliminaries."   
"Oh, she didn't say she was going."   
Tonk simply chuckled at the friendly confusion. He reached up to clasp his nose. Though healed, it was still sore.   
Another voice cut in. This one definitely from an excited female child. "Ah-ah! It's the green man on TV! Hi, hi! I'm Pan! You really can't see me? Really?"   
Laughing again, Tonkeshin lowered to one knee so he was more on Pan's level. He offered her his hand, "Nope, can't see anything. My hands see for me."   
Pan's tiny fingers closed around his thumb. He gripped her arm and shook gently. She giggled, "It's like fighting with your eyes closed."   
"Heh, yeah, I guess so. Ooh, your arm feels strong." Tonkeshin pretended to be in pain, grinning. "Ouch, you're hurting me! Ahh, no, I'm being crushed! She's gonna beat me for sure!"   
Girlish giggling answered him. "Silly!"   
"So, how old are you, Pan? Since you're so strong I just _have_ to know."   
"I'm seven!"   
"Wow, you're almost grown up!" Tonk ruffled her hair and straightened. He always loved kids, they reminded him that innocence still survived in the universe.   
"Hee!" Pan scrambled back over to where Tonkeshin assumed Gohan stood. "You're a lot nicer than grumpy ol' Piccolo over there."   
Piccolo didn't comment. Tonk tried not to laugh, but in doing so he wound up snorting pretty loud. It made his nose ache again.   
"Here." Piccolo cut in without regarding the teasing. "Your cane."   
He took it gently, giving it a quick once-over with his hand to check for damage. All clear.   
"Thanks."   
"Hm," Piccolo rumbled, "looks like you'll have to meet the others later. People are beginning to gather by the arena. We should go."   
"Okay."   
Gohan rustled an article of clothing. "Sure. I'll come with Pan to make sure she'll be all right. Videl can catch up."   
"Oh boy!" Pan hopped in place, her little feet pattering quietly on the pavement. "Let's go!"   
Tonk straightened his vest. Someone stepped past him and spat at his feet.   
Vegeta.   
Avoiding an angry snarl took all the willpower in Tonkeshin's being. Keeping a straight face even more so.   
_Don't worry about him._ He told himself, walking forward with the others and losing himself in his cane's rhythm. A smile emerged, _Aside from Vegeta being here, this isn't to bad. It'll be fun! I wonder how the prelims will go. Punching machine or elimination fights? Heh, I'll find out soon enough_.   
"A word of advice, Tonkeshin," Piccolo's scratchy rasp cut into Tonk's thoughts.   
"Yeah? I'm listening." But he didn't face him. If he did he'd drift in the direction his head was turned.   
"Don't show your true strength right away. Vegeta and the rest of us don't want publicity. Some may still recognize us from the Cell Games because they were televised. If we pretend to be weak in the beginning, they'll think for the most part that it's just a coincidental resemblance.   
"Everybody will assume you're part of our group because of your powers. I doubt you'd like it if reporters were knocking on your door every day until the next Tournament."   
"Ah, good advice. But I've already had reporters come after me, remember?"   
"Feh, that's nothing compared to what you'd get later. Trust me on this, Tonkeshin." Piccolo was looking at him, Tonk could tell by his voice. "Save it for the bigger fights."   
"He's right." Gohan said from the right, "People are already staring at you. It'll just add more."   
Nodding his head, Tonkeshin smiled. The stares didn't bother him here. For all he cared they were just watching a competitor walk by. "It's a deal. So what's it gonna be? Battles or a machine?"   
Piccolo turned his head the other way. Looking over his shoulder, most likely. "From the looks of it, we will do both."   
As always, his reply was short and to the point.   
"Gah," Gohan snorted, "the Tournaments are getting so bogged down by regulations. Next thing you know, they'll make us compete over who can spit the furthest."   
"Ew, daddy, spitting's gross!" Pan complained.   
Gohan grunted, obviously picking her up. It didn't take him much effort. "You're right. It sure is."   
"I'll make sure not to spit in your presence." Tonk smiled briefly towards her. "And Piccolo will, too. _Right_ Piccolo?"   
"Hmph!"   
"Glad you agree. Now which way are we going?"   
Piccolo stopped walking. "We're here."   
Gohan came to his side with Pan. Tonk halted, noticing the powers of Trunks and Goten pretty far ahead.   
He could still sense Vegeta. His aura stood out in the throng like the sharp point of a thumbtack poking up amongst mundane braille dots. Just waiting to tear into his sweeping fingers.   
Tonkeshin removed his attention from Vegeta and stepped into the line with Piccolo, Gohan and Pan. Up ahead, someone was shouting through a megaphone. Telling everyone to line up in single file and wait for further instructions.   
He still couldn't believe this was really the day. Cruel surprises aside, he struggled to avoid tapping his feet or jiggling his legs. Standing still did little with the butterflies in his stomach.   
_And soon, I'll prove to the world just what I **can** do. Heh, this is going to be great!_   
But a little voice inside Tonkeshin's head warned him not to get too jittery. _I just hope I don't wind up competing against Vegeta right away. He's obviously out of my league. Losing in the first match would make me look more helpless than everyone assumes. I just pray to Porunga that I get matched up with people I can handle. . .and later on, Piccolo. That way if I lose, it won't look too bad_.   
"Excited?"   
"Eh?"   
Gohan chuckled, "You're grinning like a maniac."   
"I am?"   
"You are." Piccolo joined in.   
"He's happy!" Pan added.   
Tonkeshin's cheeks heated up. He eased his cane into the pencil grip and laughed raucously. It helped release some of the tension. "Excited is more like it. I can't wait to really get going."   
"Soon, Tonkeshin." said Piccolo calmly, "Be patient. The more excited you get, the longer the wait will seem."   
"Can't help it. But I'll try."   
"Heh." Gohan chuckled, "Here we go."   
And the line began to move.   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: I'd like to thank SpecifywhatIsuck for bringing a plot hole to my attention. I hope I filled it in when Tonk recalled feeling the different powers at various times over the years, but mentioned not paying attention to the news. That should explain why he didn't know about most of it. 
>>>> 
>>>> I don't have anything against Vegeta, but Tonk obviously does. Just letting you all know before people ask if I hate him or not. He's okay, but not a favorite. 
>>>> 
>>>> Writing this fic is so much fun! I started out writing just for myself and look what happened. FANS! grins goofily Thanks to you all, Tonk has a life of his own now. I've started talking to him in my head. Honestly! He smacks me if I try to make him do something OOC. Pretty soon I'll have to ask his permission just to write about him. wink


	15. 15

> > > >   
  
  
  
  

>>>> 
>>>> Blending In   
15   
  
BAM!   
Jingle-jingle-jingle.   
Ding, ding, ding.   
Every time someone punched the punching machine, the same sounds repeated themselves. It became so frequent that Tonkeshin stopped flinching at the high-pitched bell that indicated the machine's results. It became just another sound among many surrounding him.   
For some reason the machine at the end of his line kept malfunctioning. He was half-tempted to sneak into the other line. Unfortunately the rules didn't allow that; once he was in a line, he had to stay put.   
The wait became frustrating.   
"What's going on up there?" Tonk finally asked.   
"Vegeta broke it. Again." Gohan moaned, "At least he didn't blow it up this time."   
"Why am I not surprised?"   
"Holding back is a term beyond Vegeta's understanding." Piccolo added flatly. He sounded just as bored as Tonkeshin felt.   
Pan sniffed. "Veggie's a grumpy old man that doesn't eat enough prunes with his cereal!"   
Tonk was going to reply to Piccolo, but Pan's funny statement made him laugh.   
"Heads up." said Piccolo, "The line's moving."   
Tonkeshin nodded. He felt Piccolo's strong hand come down on his shoulder and guide him forward, then pull him backwards to signal they were stopping.   
"Thanks."   
No reply. Piccolo's hand inched him forward another step. Its presence felt reassuring in the chaos all around.   
Suddenly the punching machine seemed close. Less bodies to muffle the sound. Tonk heard Gohan put Pan down and approach the machine. More jingling and dings. Pan took her turn. Another series of ringing bells followed.   
"Next!"   
"Tonkeshin, you're up. Remember, restrain your strength." Piccolo's hand withdrew, taking with it the peaceful order in the wild surroundings. "The machine is right in front of you."   
Tonk smiled a quiet thank you and reached out. Yup, the machine was right where Piccolo said it would be. He pulled his arm back and aimed a full-strength punch at the pressure sensor. But at the last second he extended his finger to flick it like a switch. That took away most of the blow.   
Poof!   
Jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle.   
DING, DING! DING!   
"T-t-two ten from just a flick?!" Someone gulped.   
"It's rigged!" cried another voice.   
A shrill reply, "Is not! Mr. Satan tested both machines himself!"   
Tonkeshin ignored the argument and faced Piccolo with a grin, "Did I hold back enough?"   
His reply came when Piccolo took his turn at the punching device. He got the same score. 
>>>> 
>>>> More waiting.   
From what Piccolo said, Tonkeshin guessed it would be hours before everyone was done with the machines. The weak ones would be weeded out and the select group would continue to the preliminaries.   
Gohan and Pan were gone to eat lunch. The others were probably in their seats already, so that left Tonk and Piccolo pretty much alone together. Both leaning on the same wall to widdle away the monotony.   
"Hey, Tonk!"   
Tonkeshin pushed off from the wall. "Greg! Hey, big man, how'd you find me?"   
"Well it's not hard to spot a big green - " Greg cut his voice off when Piccolo rumbled under his breath.   
"Are you the Piccolo Tonk told me about?"   
"I am." Piccolo stated tersely.   
Tonkeshin leaned over to Greg, "He's not very talkative."   
Greg snorted, "I guessed that. Geez, he _is_ bigger than you! Makes you look like a twig!"   
"Gee, THANKS, Greg."   
A snicker, "How big do you Nameks get?"   
"Some of my brothers were in excess of eight feet. Saichirou was even larger than that." Tonk answered simply.   
Greg was quiet for a moment. "Good grief." he laughed and slapped Tonk on the back, "Lay off the miracle grow, you guys! I'm serious, it's not everyday that you see TWO green guys in the same place."   
Piccolo muttered something under his breath. "Humans. . ."   
Tonk elbowed Greg's large side. "At any rate, Greg, this is Piccolo, Piccolo, this is my buddy, Greg."   
Another grunt from Piccolo. There was the very brief slap of skin on skin as he and Greg shook hands. Piccolo never said a word.   
"Well, I guess I should go get my seat. I'm gonna sit in the front row, right in the center of the west wall." Greg scuffed his feet on the cement. "See you guys later, don't start anything stupid before the matches."   
"Bye, Greg, yell loud so I can find you when I get in the ring." Tonk grinned, raising a hand to wave.   
"Will do! See ya!"   
Greg's thick footsteps vanished into the crowd.   
"Tonkeshin," Piccolo spoke up.   
Tonk turned, "Yeah?"   
"You don't have to stay here with me. Go ahead and wander if you feel the need. Return to this spot a few minutes before the preliminaries. I'll still be here."   
"You sure, Piccolo?" Tonk faced him. "But you won't have anybody to keep you company."   
Piccolo's soft tone carried a rare smile. "I'll be fine. Go on."   
Tonkeshin grinned, "Mind pointing me to the bathroom real quick?"   
"To the left of where I am right now. There's a potted plant by the door. Can't miss it."   
"Thanks." He flipped his cane into the correct grip and headed forward. The ball-tip contacted a tall ceramic pot. Just beyond was a doorway.   
Tonk slipped into the tile room. He poked around for the nearest urinal.   
A moment later he was rearranging his belt back into place and emerging into the sun's warmth.   
"Tonkeshin!" Called a light voice from far off.   
He faced the sound with a warm smile. Excitement bubbled inside him like carbonation in soda. "Hey, Dende! You made it! Can you believe today's the day?"   
Dende came closer. Tonk didn't hear him until he spoke up again, "I've only been to a few Tournaments. They're exciting. Even more so because I have a guest with me. I contacted him, told him about you entering and he wished himself here for the day."   
Grabbing Dende's shoulder, Tonkeshin smiled, his eyes staring blankly ahead. "Who?"   
"Me, boy." Answered a scratchy voice with a smile behind it.   
Tonk heard the click of wood against the cement. A gasp caught in his throat. Thinking he was dreaming, he reached out towards the voice. His hands clasped an old, wrinkled one wrapped around the end of a long wooden stick. He felt his heart leap into his throat.   
"_Lians?!_" Tonk's hands grasped the other Namek's waist-length vest. The tunic underneath reached all the way to the ground. And the scent. . .it was the same burning-wood incense scent he remembered from childhood. It made him feel like a four year old all over again. "Is that really you? I thought you were. . .gone. . ."   
"I've lost the rest of my sight, but not my life. Last I checked, cataracts aren't fatal. So I'm not going anywhere. Not yet, not for a long time." Tonkeshin felt Lians' hands clasp around his and squeeze affectionately. "I have another good few centuries before my time comes." There was a warm smile within his otherwise harsh voice, which was thick with the Namekian accent.   
"It's so good to see you again, m'boy." The wrinkled hands rose and explored Tonk's face lightly. Tonkeshin obediently closed his eyes and let the elder look at him. "You've grown up a lot, but your face is still much like I remember it. Yet much stronger."   
That made Tonk smile. He reached up to see Lians' face as well. A few more wrinkles around his eyes and nose. The existing lines were deeper like old wood. But the narrow face - withered antennae, perpetually squinted eyes, sharp cheekbones, viper's head-shaped nose, pointed jaw and tight mouth - all was as he remembered.   
He was really there! It wasn't a dream!   
"Lians," Tonk barely controlled the joyous tears welling in his eyes. A few escaped anyway. Lians was like a beloved grandfather to him. One of the few people he missed most when he chose to remain on Earth.   
He leaned forward to embrace the elder. The last time he did this he was barely up to Lians' shoulder, and now he was a few inches taller than him. Lians would've still been taller, but old age had also hunched his spine a little.   
"I'm so glad you're here. . .you must tell me all about what you've been doing in my absence."   
"Ahhh, yes." Tonk felt Lians' thin, but strong arms return the embrace. A familiar, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his chest. "Me too, Tonkeshin, me too. Why don't you show me around a bit, hm? Dende, would you like to come?"   
"Yes, thank you, that would be nice." Dende answered from the right.   
A smile spread across Tonkeshin's face. He slid back from Lians and gripped his cane correctly. "Take my arm, then, and let's explore!"   
Long, calloused fingers wrapped gently around Tonk's elbow. "It's your show, m'boy. Let's be off."   
"Well then." If Tonk's smile grew any larger, it would've split his face in half. "Off we go!"   
"Where to?" Dende piped up excitedly. Following his question was the slap of his hands clasping together.   
"How about. . .that way!" Tonkeshin faced a random direction and started walking. Letting his cane tap across his path like a happy cadence to match his pounding heart.   
Laughter, some harsh and some fluttering, answered him. The entire way was filled with the sounds of Tonk, Dende and Lians having a humorous conversation about their current lives.   
  
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Heh, surprise! A little holiday present for all of you Namek lovers out there. I know it's late, but I couldn't get on the computer on Christmas like I'd hoped. So call this a belated gift smile. 
>>>> 
>>>> I've been toying with the idea of bringing Lians into this for so long. If I recall correctly, there's a few out there who really liked him. So here he is. grins Doesn't he remind you of that really old grandpa that slips money into your hands when nobody's looking?


	16. 16

> > >   
  
  

>>> 
>>> Blending In   
16
>>>
>>>> ". . .so Greg handed the baster to me and said, 'if you're such a turkey expert, YOU cook it!'"   
An explosion of laughter.   
Lians chimed in, "You preparing any kind of food is a disaster waiting to happen. I do recall a time when you burned that herb paste - "   
"Hey, I was distracted by him!" Tonk pointed to Dende.   
"Me?!"   
They all burst out laughing again.   
At the moment the three Nameks were congregated at a picnic table, enjoying tall glasses of ice water. Lians made the request to rest after mentioning his old bones weren't quite what they used to be, so Tonk had herded them over to the table where few people were gathered.   
Tonkeshin heard Lians place his glass carefully on the tabletop. The elder Namek sighed, "Dear me! It truly feels like old times when we all sit together like this. Even if the surroundings are a little chaotic."   
"Earth does take some getting used to," said Dende. "It's nowhere near as peaceful as Namek. Many more people, and they're all so different."   
"You should see the place where I work! Some days it's so crazy I wonder how long I have before my head explodes." Tonk added with a grin.   
"It must not be too much for you to handle, m'boy." Lians' rough voice was faraway, dreamy. His long nails scraped gently across the tabletop and tinkled against his water glass. Those long, claw-like nails, extending at least an inch beyond his fingertips, were what used to make children so afraid of Lians. In his youth they must've been a force to fear. At least Tonk thought so.   
"Of course," the elder went on, "once I taught you to use the cane, there wasn't anything you wouldn't try."   
Tonk lowered his head and grinned. "I have only you to thank for that. You're the one who opened the world to me."   
"I remember how everybody was afraid of you, Lians." Dende brought up exactly what Tonk was thinking about. He took a long sip of his drink. "Every time someone trampled your garden, you'd make them re-till it."   
Old Lians laughed. A harsh, watery sound that startled gasps from a table nearby. "And I still do, boy! It is my belief that teaching hard work at a young age helps children become harder workers when they reach adulthood.   
"I was working the fields at age ten and engaging in skirmishes at thirteen. By twenty I was training fighters. Nail was my best student. And then my eyesight started going."   
"You trained Nail?" Tonk and Dende both leaned forward.   
"He never told me." Tonk continued alone, curiously. "So why didn't you train me to fight?"   
"Me? Hah-hah! I would have never kept up with the likes of _you_ at my age. Not with this arthritis. 'Tis why I passed my knowledge on to others. And I'm sure we'll find out just how well Nail did when we see you fight later."   
Dende chuckled. He plopped his empty glass on the tabletop and grunted. Probably stretching. "You should see him, Lians. He's wearing clothing identical to Nail's."   
"Ah. . .I felt I should honor him, so I wore his vest instead of my own." Tonk touched the vest reverently, a soft smile touching his lips. "I wish he could be here to see me fight."   
Silence, as brief as a sigh.   
"Oh, I'm sure that wherever he is, Tonkeshin, Nail will be watching." Dende's tenor voice carried a smile. It sounded as if he knew something Tonk didn't. "He'll see you. Somehow. Some way."   
"What's that supposed to mean?"   
"You'll find out soon enough, m'boy." Lians exhaled forcefully and heaved himself to his feet. It took considerable effort for him to get up, but he seemed fine once he'd attained a vertical base. "Come, we should get moving. I have a feeling that Tonkeshin will need to join the other fighters very soon."   
"Yeah, Piccolo said he'd like to have me back by then."   
Dende's feet thumped softly on the ground and came around the table. He nudged the bench aside, "Hm, it looks like they're already starting to gather. I guess they went faster on the punching machines than we first anticipated."   
Lians' long wooden cane rumbled hollowly against the uneven pavement. Tonkeshin felt the elder's cool hand grasp his elbow. Pointed nails lightly touching his skin.   
"Too bad. Perhaps we can visit the shops later," Lians gave Tonk's arm a gentle squeeze. "Come, m'boy, we'll walk you to where you belong."   
"Maybe they'll let you in with me."   
"I wouldn't count on it, Tonkeshin," said the elder, "But we can always ask, right?"   
"True, come on." Dende's voice moved gradually away, light and pleasant as ever. "Follow me, I'll take you to Piccolo."   
A small inkling of dismay formed alongside the excitement bubbling in Tonkeshin's mind. He'd hoped to get more time with Lians and Dende before he had to leave them. Oh well, there was always later on.   
So, in following Dende, Tonkeshin and Lians became one giant cane-swinging machine. One cane made of aluminum tubing and the other pure wood. Sharp taps created harmony with hollow plunks and scrapes. A duet against the general roar in the background - hardly noticed over the happy chatter and laughter going on between the three. 
>>>> 
>>>> "You're late." Piccolo's raspy voice greeted Tonkeshin when he finally arrived at the predetermined wall. He didn't acknowledge the other two at all, or if he did it was merely a nod.   
"Yeah, sorry about that. I lost track of time." Tonk smiled sheepishly, "Piccolo, I'd like you to meet Lians. He's the elder who taught me how to use a cane and manage in everyday life."   
Brief silence.   
"We've met before." The elder said cryptically.   
Tonk felt Lians' hand move from his arm and over to Piccolo. The hand returned a moment later.   
_This is strange, didn't Piccolo say he was born here on Earth? What in the world is going on? Hm, maybe they met when we were all wished to Earth. That seems logical, but it's still weird_. . .   
Dende remained politely quiet until everyone else stopped speaking. Then he said, "Hey Piccolo? Do you think they'll let us watch the preliminaries?"   
"No. Only competitors are allowed within the walls of the preliminary area." Piccolo answered. His voice directed itself at Tonkeshin next, "And we should get going."   
Tonk turned to Dende and Lians. Mild disappointment tarnished his usually smooth voice, "Sorry guys, I really thought they'd let you in with me. I guess you'll have to sit in the audience and wait for the Tournament to start."   
He felt a wrinkled hand settle on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Dende will lead me to his Earthly friends and we'll enjoy the matches from up there." The hand squeezed affectionately, "Good luck, m'boy! Keep your head up and stay focused!"   
"Will do!" Tonk laughed and gave Lians' hand a pat. "Cheer loud so I'll 'see' you when I enter the arena, okay?"   
Lians chortled heartily at that. "I surely will."   
"We both will," added Dende, his voice carrying a wide smile. "I can't wait to see you in action!"   
"Me either! Bye you two, see you soon." Tonk lifted his hand in a wave.   
The hand lifted off Tonkeshin's shoulder. Soft, woody clicks moved away and faded into the surrounding crowd.   
Tonkeshin stayed facing the sound until he couldn't detect it anymore. Still smiling softly. Having Lians there made the Tournament all the more worth it. Not only would he be proving to himself that he was a great fighter, he would be proving it to everyone else watching.   
"Are you finished? We have to go." Piccolo's cold tone suggested he'd become strictly business.   
Tonk spun towards the other Namek's voice, instinctively grabbing his shoulder to locate his arm. His hand encountered heavy padding covered in luxurious folds of thick cloth. Of course, weights! It was a mantle with a cape! With the rustling mystery solved, Tonk let his hand drop down over a tight, muscle-bound arm that reminded him of a serpent about to strike. He gently grasped Piccolo's elbow. The rough, leathery skin had little give under his fingertips.   
Wow, Greg was right, Piccolo DID make him look like a twig. Then again, he wasn't wearing weights. His muscles weren't in perpetual flexion.   
_No wonder he's always a little sweaty_. Tonk couldn't help but smile, nose twitching at Piccolo's dusty scent. Piccolo was in top shape. It'd be a great match if they wound up battling each other.   
"I'm ready. You don't mind if I hold your arm, do you? Less chance of us getting separated that way."   
He grunted, "Hold on tight."   
Piccolo started forward at a brisk pace. So fast that Tonk had to take a few skipping steps make up for the sudden movement. He choked up on his cane and followed the other Namek through a throng of people, past some concession stands and around a corner. The crowd sounded quite willing to part and let them by.   
Next thing he knew they were inside a large building. People milled around while others shouted instructions through crackly megaphones. A chaotic mess of smells, sounds and sensations.   
Tonkeshin was glad he had Piccolo there to guide him around. He'd get lost for sure in all this confusion!   
"There are fifteen rings set up with fifteen fighters per ring. Whoever beats everyone else in their ring continues to Tournament. Only fifteen fighters, not counting Mr. Satan, will go on to the actual matches.   
"When you draw lots you'll get a number and a letter. The officials will pair up names on a board and the matches will begin."   
"Fifteen people for fifteen rings?" Tonkeshin blinked, "A lot must've gotten past the punching machine."   
"Indeed. This will weed out those who just got lucky."   
Tonk listened impatiently to Piccolo's explanation. Growing excitement made standing still almost impossible. He bent one leg, then the other, shifting his weight from foot to foot. It gradually accelerated until he was bouncing from heel to toe after each shift - a series of movements Greg teasingly nicknamed his 'Happy Dance'.   
An article of Piccolo's clothing rustled. "Do you have to use the restroom again?"   
Tonk paused in mid-hop, grinning and a little embarrassed, "No, actually, I can't seem to stand still when I'm this excited. Sorry if my jiggling bothers you."   
Piccolo snorted. He sounded mildly annoyed. "Try stretching instead, it doesn't look as silly."   
". . .good idea!"   
Just as Tonkeshin bent over to stretch his legs, someone shouted into a megaphone, "We will begin drawing lots now. Please come forward when your name is called and draw your number."   
Soft, compliant noises.   
The official began calling out names. Each name was punctuated by footsteps and rustling.   
"Darkstar. . .Igor. . .Strawberry. . .Clover. . .Oruko. . .Redclaw. . .Daiquiri. . ."   
The name calling droned on and on. Tonk became so busy with his stretches that he almost didn't hear them call out his name.   
"Tonkeshin. . .Tonkeshin. . .Tonkeshin?"   
"Oh! That's me, I'm here!" Tonk jumped up and rushed forward to go draw his number. He was surprised to discover the man holding the little box was waiting right in front of him. . .he would've crashed right into the poor man if Piccolo hadn't grabbed his shoulder to stop him.   
"Here you are," the official droned. Not the least bit startled.   
A little embarrassed, Tonkeshin located the box with his fingertips and plunged his hand in. He dug around for a while before producing a single folded piece. Automatically he unfolded it and let the official read it for him.   
"You have A, two." The official moved back to his original position. "Ma Junior."   
Piccolo moved away to draw his number. His return was as quiet as his retreat. "B, six. Your ring is on the left by the door, mine is on the right."   
"Thanks. What about Pan and Vegeta?"   
"She drew E, five. Vegeta hasn't drawn yet."   
"Lobo. . .Uno. . .Trunks. . .Elastico. . ."   
"Elastico? What kind of a name is that?" Asked Tonk for the sake of making conversation. Anything was better than standing around. He half-feared his excitement would burn up all his energy before the matches got started.   
"Because he's a contortionist." Piccolo replied from a little ways ahead.   
"Oh." He quirked a brow. "Hm, sounds like a lot of people are using aliases for this. I don't see why though."   
A soft snort, "Because they don't want news people finding their real names and addresses."   
"You don't have an address."   
"No, but I'm not hard to spot in a crowd, either."   
"Tyrano. . .Anthony. . .Mutilator. . .Brutus. . .Organza. . .Umbra. . .Razorman. . .Ishiro. . .Nosfartu. . .Exin. . ."   
Tonk tilted his head towards Piccolo's voice. It was hard to hear him over the muttering going on all around. The official was still calling names when he said, "Ahh, that makes sense."   
"Starburst. . .Ebony. . .Vegeta. . .Exploder. . .Nathan. . ."   
Some of those aliases sounded pretty funny. Tonkeshin had to bury his hand in his palm to avoid chuckling out loud. Exploder? Mutilator? They were trying too hard.   
"F, five. Hmph, I'll crush them all." Vegeta muttered as he walked by. Tonkeshin suppressed a sneer.   
". . .and Goten! Safe to say that's E, fourteen." A new official's voice came from near the far end of the room. Tonk recognized that forceful tenor tone, it was the Announcer who kept a steady commentary for all the big matches!   
"And there you have it, we've got a full board!"   
Everyone cheered.   
Tonk turned his head so he could hear the man better. An excited smile curled his lips gently upwards. "Who will be my first opponent, Piccolo?"   
"You have. . ." The other Namek shifted to look, then returned, "Lobo, the large, oafish wolfman in a loincloth."   
The grin on Tonkeshin's face became mischievous. He knew his fangs were showing. "Good, I was hoping for the chance to shut him up. He thinks he'll win this Tournament, but I'm going to send him home disappointed."   
Piccolo actually chuckled at that, "Tonkeshin, only you, myself, Vegeta, Trunks, Goten and Pan have a chance in this. The rest are just warm ups to us. Trust me. You won't even break a sweat."   
"That's - "   
Stomping footsteps interrupted Tonk's sentence. He turned to the source and wrinkled his nose. Whoever it was, they hadn't bathed in weeks!   
"Hey, blind bean!" came a growly voice that spewed rotten breath, "Are you the punk called Tonkeshin?"   
"I was the last time I checked. So you must be Lobo. Yes, I remember your voice from the locker room." Tonkeshin faced Lobo with both hands on the handle of his cane and grinned.   
Obnoxious laughter. "I'm going to pound you flat into the ground, you little green wimp! I can't believe I got matched up with a helpless blind dweeb. How stupid!"   
"Oh Lobo, Lobo, Lobo. . .you have no idea what you're getting yourself into, do you?" Tonk half-closed his eyes in mock boredom. He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Run along now, you'll see how helpless I am in a few minutes."   
Lobo smashed his fist into his palm. Then Tonk felt the breeze of his fist coming. He didn't move. The fist stopped inches from his nose. He heard Lobo's raucous laughter, then the sound of his footsteps clomping away. He shook his head.   
"Piccolo?"   
"On your right."   
Tonk grinned, facing him. "I'm _really_ going to enjoy embarrassing that guy."   
"Heh."   
"Will competitors number one and two come to ring A, please?"   
"There you go." said Piccolo, "Hey, Tonkeshin?"   
He turned in mid-step, "Yeah?"   
"Go easy on the poor fool. I don't think he can afford any more brain damage." Amusement showed through in Piccolo's voice.   
"Oh, all right, I'll be gentle." Tonk laughed and headed towards the ring. Cane gently tapping against cement and other people's feet. He could already hear Lobo breathing heavily up ahead.   
Tonk was about to step onto the fighting floor when the Announcer grabbed his shoulder.   
"I'm sorry, but you can't take that into the ring," a hand gently grasped the cane.   
"Oh! Sorry," Tonkeshin folded his cane and handed it to the man, "Mind holding it for me then?"   
"Sure."   
"Thanks" Feeling in front of him, Tonk touched the cold stone floor and vaulted himself upwards. It wasn't hard to locate Lobo - he just followed the awful smell. Good grief, the guy probably rolled in raw sewage!   
"Ready to cry, green man?"   
Tonk faced Lobo's voice. "I'm not the one that'll be crying when this is over."   
A long pause. Ages. Eternities. Everybody stopped talking. The air thickened with tension.   
"Fighters, begin!"   
Lobo stomped his feet, making the ring vibrate.   
Tonk just stood there. Would he have to get this going or did Lobo plan on attacking first?   
"Aw, what's wrong, don't have the balls to make a move?"   
A smirk tilted Tonk's mouth upwards, "Yeah, I'm petrified." He beckoned his opponent forward with one finger, "Come on, big, bad wolf, impress me."   
More silence. The scrape of Lobo's feet on the floor. He didn't do a very good job of sneaking. Tonk could hear his every move without even concentrating. He stared blankly ahead, waiting.   
_This is pitiful. Greg can sneak around better than this guy!_ Tonk thought with mild disappointment. He was hoping for a challenge.   
"Down you go, sissy!"   
The scraping stopped. Tonkeshin heard Lobo's breathing pause. He felt the breeze of an oncoming punch.   
And grinned.   
"You're slow!" Tonk casually pivoted away from the punch. He shoved the heel of his hand straight up into Lobo's exposed snout. The attack had hardly any power and it still sent the wolf-man cartwheeling into the wall behind the ring.   
Ka-SMACK!   
Tonkeshin heard Lobo slide down and land with a soft plop. Sniffling followed. It turned into all-out bawling.   
"I want my mommy!" The sound retreated towards the door and faded into the distance. One could barely hear it over the laughter all around the ring.   
Tonk just stood there, a drop of sweat dripping off the side of his head. The Announcer named him the winner of that round and returned his cane to him.   
So much for that fight. It didn't even touch the excitement and energy rippling all through Tonk's body. Something akin to dying of thirst and only being allowed to drink one drop of water.   
A pair of tiny hands tugged his pant leg when he stepped off the fighting floor. "Hehehe! You made the big wolfie cry! That was really funny! Hehehe!"   
"I think he deserved what he got for being so arrogant and misjudging me." Tonkeshin knelt to Pan's level and picked her up. He poked her tummy gently, grinning when she squirmed. "Your opponent will make the same mistake with you."   
"I've got to fight Uno. He's my size, but he's FAT!"   
That made Tonk laugh. Right then he heard Piccolo being called into the ring. People were gathering to watch.   
"C'mon, let's go watch Piccolo knock his opponent for a loop."   
"Okay! But can I ride piggyback?"   
"Sure! Climb on over." Tonk bent forward so Pan could scuttle onto his back. He felt her tiny legs curl around his waist, her arms encircling his neck. A quick upward heft had her in just the right spot. "Good to go?"   
"Yup!" Her little body trembled with just as much excitement as Tonkeshin felt.   
"Cool," Tonk thrust his cane forward and headed towards Piccolo's ring.   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Aww, aren't they cute? chuckles I have a pun going, but did you catch it? Look again at the first letter of the names of the fighters being called to draw lots. They spell out the names of characters I RP with on a pretty regular basis. It's my own little tribute to the characters and the brilliant minds behind them. They know who they are. grins and flashes a peace sign. Oh, and if I had to choose a voice actor for Lians, it'd be Edward Asner. . .same guy who did Hudson on the _Gargoyles_ cartoon. 
>>>> 
>>>> It's not definite yet, but I may end up going on hiatus for awhile. My brother wants to take the computer in to be checked out and see if he can get something replaced or upgraded. Dunno when it'll be, but I may wind up being without a computer for awhile. Just letting you all know in advance in case the tech guy takes forever when he gets it.


	17. 17

> > > >   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Blending In   
17   
  
"So who's Piccolo up against?" Tonkeshin asked Pan when they came up next to the second ring. People stepped aside and let them by. A few required polite nudging before they moved.   
Pan wiggled on Tonk's back. Her warm fingers tightened, stretched and relaxed against his skin. "Redclaw, he's an Indian! He's got a long braid and a feather on his head! He's real tall like Piccolo! He looks mean, too!"   
"But I doubt he's strong enough to win."   
"Hmm. I could beat him." Pan giggled.   
Someone large and muscular bumped into Tonkeshin's side. He had to take a few skipping sideways steps to regain his balance. Whoever it was made the loudest breathing sounds Tonk ever heard. He might've been annoyed if he didn't realize it was an accident.   
"They're starting!" Pan cried.   
"Fighters. . .begin!"   
Swish!   
Fwapp!   
THUD!   
Cheers erupted.   
"Ma Junior is the winner!" The Announcer's voice seemed to embody Tonk's excitement. "What a chop!"   
Nobody spoke as Piccolo exited the ring. Tonk felt him swish past on the left, footfalls silent like his demeanor.   
"Nice work."   
"Feh." Piccolo turned his head to spit on the concrete floor. "It's going to be like this until we start facing off against each other. Save your congratulations for then."   
Tonkeshin's heart sank at the news. He'd hoped beyond hope that at least one opponent would prove a challenge. The matches continued with the same outcomes. Bodies hitting the floor after one punch, kick, chop or weak ki blast. Matches between weaker fighters lasted a little longer, but proved just as lackluster.   
One competitor, Exploder, had to be rushed out on a stretcher after Vegeta got done with him - one of the paramedics mumbled something about two broken legs and a fractured skull.   
Everybody gave the Saiyajin a wide berth after that.   
Tonk tried hard not to look too bored each time he was called into the ring, but how could he not when every foe fell after a single blow? One guy was so weak that a simple flick made him give up!   
"Could be worse." Goten elbowed him from behind after the match, "You could've fought Vegeta first and gotten yourself splattered all over the arena."   
"That's very true, Goten, that it is." Amusement snuck into Tonkeshin's voice, "Now here's to hoping he won't be my first opponent in the actual Tournament."   
They both laughed, unmindful of a flying body that landed against the wall nearby.   
"So much for Exin." muttered the bulky fighter who almost knocked Tonk over earlier. Tonk heard him turn around and lumber away.   
No more fighting noises followed. A few taunts and insults passed back and forth amongst feuding participants. One person insulted another's mother. The offended party responded with something sexually vulgar. Other than that, it was just the general roar of chatter all around. Scents of sweat and blood wove itself in amongst the different voices.   
Tonkeshin blinked. He faced Goten's breathing, staring blankly towards him, "That's it?"   
"Yup, anticlimactic, isn't it? The real fun starts in the big ring." Then Goten's voice muffled, "Hey Trunks! I'm over here!"   
Footsteps raced over. New sweat joined Goten's, this one with almost the same tangy overtone. Tonk struggled not to sneer. . .even if they were his friends, they still smelled suspiciously like Saiyajins.   
He didn't like Saiyajins very much.   
"I wish you could've seen Goten send that Captain Chicken guy to the ground." Trunks said, a smile behind his voice, "It was even funnier than you making that wolf man cry."   
"Heheh, well I wasn't trying to be funny. It just happened. . .and he asked for it." Tonk touched the back of his head and grinned. "So where'd Pan go off to?"   
"She's off teasing my dad. Just like Goten used to do."   
"I did not - OOF! Hey, why'd you go do that?"   
"Sometimes, Goten, you still act like you're eight. That's why." Trunks spat contemptuously. "Idiot."   
Goten just laughed.   
"Uh. . .and Piccolo?" asked Tonk, "Where's he?"   
"Behind you," a telltale rasp cut in.   
Tonk yipped and spun to face him, "Well why didn't you say so? You know I can't hear you walking in a place like this."   
". . .I just got here."   
"Oh," he felt his face flush, "Good point."   
"Hmmmm," Goten's voice took on an odd tone. He seemed to be tracking someone. "Wow, Strawberry's going on to the Tournament. Heh, too bad she's wearing that hood that covers up her hair and face, I'd love to see what she looks like."   
Trunks cracked up laughing. "Go ask her out, loverboy."   
"Shut up!"   
"Come on. We should head to the main arena. They'll be drawing lots soon." Piccolo pointedly stepped between Trunks and Goten, effectively ending their horseplay.   
Tonkeshin automatically flipped his cane out of the pencil grip and took Piccolo's elbow. The other Namek's arm was even tighter than before.   
"You're tense."   
"Feh." Piccolo started forward with the same suddenness as last time.   
Tonk adjusted his grip so Piccolo's elbow wouldn't slip out of his hand. His fingertips dented the tough skin. "We're not in a race here, calm down. Please?"   
"I'm not going to walk you into anything."   
"I'm well aware of that," said Tonk as they passed the scent of hot dogs and hamburgers. That meant they were close to the main arena. His excited nerves instantly stood on end, he couldn't believe it was really about to happen!   
"Why the hurry? Something spook you?"   
"That Strawberry girl Trunks and Goten were talking about. She was eyeballing us." No emotion in Piccolo's voice at all. He might as well be talking about the weather or discussing a bad TV movie.   
Tonkeshin turned his face and eyes towards Piccolo's voice. He didn't have to worry about drifting off course as long as he held his arm. "So? We're not exactly wearing costumes like some of the other competitors here. We probably stand out like sore thumbs."   
"It's something you'd have to be able to see to understand, Tonkeshin." Piccolo said. "She was sizing us up. I got the feeling she was going to try some funny business with us before we could get to the Tournament."   
"I think you're just paranoid."   
"Hmph." The taller Namek snorted through his nose. "You're way too trusting of people, Tonkeshin, it makes it easy for people to take advantage of you. Like those gangsters did a few days ago."   
Tonk's eyes widened, "How do you know about that?!"   
"I have my ways, but that's not the point. You - "   
"I just prefer to be friendly first." Tonk cut Piccolo off. "If the other person shows they can't be trusted, then too bad for them. I've always been like this."   
". . .yeah, I know." Piccolo's tone dismissed the subject entirely.   
_You know?_ Another wave of strange familiarity flitted through Tonk's mind. _Nah, couldn't be. . .he probably knows so much about me from the news. But it's still strange_.   
Cheering, chattering and the general roar of a huge crowd filtered into Tonkeshin's ears. He followed Piccolo through a stone archway and the muffled sounds rapidly increased in volume. Almost like he'd had his hands over his ears the entire time and just now took them off.   
Piccolo said, "We're in the courtyard adjacent to the arena. The others should be arriving shortly. I'd advise you to stay in this area. From here on out you're at risk for getting mobbed by reporters."   
"Gotcha."   
The arm in Tonk's grasp pulled away. A soft swish as Piccolo turned to face another direction.   
Loud, obnoxious rock music and the boom of fireworks sounded from within the arena itself. Tonkeshin tilted an ear to the lead singer's screaming vocals. Definitely the Tossed Salad Group performing that old Mr. Satan ballad, the cheesiest song on the market. Tonk thought it sounded more like nails on a chalkboard.   
_Amazing how all these people think that oaf really beat Cell. What a fake! I always had my suspicions and now that I know the truth I just want to smack everyone until they wake up_.   
"Some hero he is."   
"Mr. Satan?" Piccolo's soft rasp was barely audible above the music. "I don't like him either. Still. . .it's better if the public eye remains focused on him instead of us."   
Tonkeshin still had his doubts. "Why?"   
A strong hand settled on his shoulder, "Because the normal people wouldn't understand our powers. I know it sounds like an injustice for what my friends and I have done for this planet, but it's in your best interest to let the people keep assuming that Mr. Satan is their hero. They. . .need someone to look up to."   
Nodding his head, Tonk smiled, "Yeah, I understand." He blinked. "Honestly, Piccolo, you remind me of someone I used to look up to when I was growing up. A warrior named Nail. . .he taught me every fighting move I know and showed me how to stand up to people who treat me badly. This vest," he touched it, "was his. I wore it to honor him today, I think he'd like that."   
"I imagine he would."   
Tonk's smile widened, "Who was your hero when you were little?"   
A long silence.   
Piccolo's response gave Tonkeshin the impression of an old soul in a young body, "People like me have no heroes." His deep voice softened, but remained devoid of emotion, "Only villains."   
Tonk looked up towards the other Namek, his brow knit. "I'm sorry if I opened an old wound."   
"Feh. We all have our scars. Some just don't show." The hand on Tonk's shoulder lifted. "Don't worry about it."   
"But - "   
Piccolo cut him off, "Focus on what's ahead. They're coming."   
Any thoughts Tonkeshin had about the previous conversation were lost in the cacophony of approaching competitors. In a few moments the sea of people surrounded him.   
"Ladies and gentleman and everything in between! In a few minutes we'll be ready to call your name so you can draw your numbers. Please respond as quickly as possible and remain here until everyone has drawn. Your patience is appreciated."   
A few people heckled at that. Some complained about being hungry, Goten mostly. It made Tonk glad he didn't eat.   
"I wonder who I'll fight first. . .I guess I'll find out in a minute." New exhilaration bubbled in Tonkeshin's stomach like carbonation in soda. Just a few numbers and several minutes worth of time were all that separated him from the Tournament!   
Standing still became impossible. Tonk unwittingly treated Piccolo to an encore of 'the Happy Dance'.   
"You really seem fond of that jig," Piccolo pointed out, amused.   
Tonk laughed, "I can't help it, I'm excited!"   
"All right, thank you for your patience!" The Announcer shouted, "It's time to get this party started!"   
A grin curled Tonk's lips. _I'm ready. . .more ready than I've ever been in my life_.   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: And so ends another chapter. Sorry that took so long, I've been hooked into RP a lot and didn't buckle down like I should have. sheepish grin It's addictive. 
>>>> 
>>>> I threw the little Kenshin-ism in there just to poke a little harmless fun at Tonk's speaking voice. Did you catch it? grin


	18. 18

> > > > > > > > Blending In   
18
>>>>> 
>>>>>   
  
  

>>>> 
>>>> "Strawberry! Please come forward at this time and draw your number!"   
Heels clicked softly on the stone floor. Tonkeshin could easily follow the piercing sound up to the Announcer. Stilettos, he knew by how they seemed to stab into anything they walked on. Just like the knives that gave them their name.   
_Females and their shoes. . .I'll never understand them._ Tonk mused silently._ They go crazy about this hot new pair on the market and then, when they wear them, go on about how they hurt and can't wait to get them off! But more importantly, how the heck does she fight in those? Hm_.   
"Strawberry drew a four!" cried the eager Announcer.   
Cheers erupted. It was hard not to get excited whenever he talked, something in his voice just exuded energy. Tonkeshin wondered if it was natural or something the guy learned through practice.   
The heels swept off to the left and fell silent. Goten got called next, followed by Nathan, Pan and Oruko. It turned out that Nathan was a monk from some town Tonk never heard of, and Oruko had been described to him as a ninja. In clockwork order they each drew their numbers.   
"Eight!"   
"Fourteen!"   
"Twelve!"   
"Ten!"   
"This's going faster than I expected." Tonk told Piccolo for the sake of conversation, "Last time I listened to this over the radio. . .they took forever."   
Piccolo answered dryly, "Because everybody's alert this time. They aren't talking amongst themselves. Not many good friends got through this time, save for our group. Looks to me like just about every weaker fighter who got through has beef with someone else."   
A chuckle bubbled in Tonk's throat, "Or maybe they're just terrified of us standing here like a pair of gargoyles. Only we're better-looking."   
". . .feh!"   
"Tonkeshin!" The voice came from all directions thanks to the speakers mounted on every wall.   
"Oops, I'm over here!" Tonk raised an arm and waved, hoping it made him visible to the Announcer. Then, to Piccolo, he whispered, "Which way?"   
"Straight ahead."   
"Thanks."   
Tonkeshin stuck his cane out and tapped his way up to the table. It took him a minute to find the hole he had to draw from, so he made sure to swish his hand around real good. Hoping to draw a decent number.   
_Don't draw an empty spot, don't draw an empty spot, don't draw an empty spot, don't draw_ -   
The Announcer cut into his thoughts, "So, you think you'll win this thing?"   
Tonk smiled, facing the man's voice. "I dunno, I just came to see how far I can get. I'm cool with whatever happens today."   
His fingers closed around a smooth, plastic sphere. He gripped it tight and held it up for the officials to read.   
"It's backwards."   
"Oops." Tonk turned it around.   
"Tonkeshin has drawn a three!"   
"Whew!" Relief nearly bowled him over. Or did it? This meant his first match would be against Strawberry. He didn't like the possibility of being kicked by those heels. Memories of countless heels accidentally slamming down on his feet made him wince inwardly.   
Piccolo came up next for his drawing. He drew six. Clover went next and produced a five.   
"Poor kid," mused Piccolo quietly, "He'll probably give up and leave when we get in the ring. He's terrified."   
"What's he look like?"   
"A fox-boy in overalls, he's only about five foot two and pretty scrawny. Looks like a farmer's kid or something."   
"Oh. . ." Tonk felt his brow knit, "well be gentle with him if he doesn't run, okay?"   
Piccolo sighed, "Don't worry, he'll be easy to throw out of the ring. It'll be a two second match if he doesn't run."   
"I just hope mine's over that quick. Those heels. . .ew. Ever been kicked by stilettos?"   
"Can't say that I have."   
"Good, don't."   
"Just use that sense of yours and dodge," replied Piccolo simply. As if his mind would rather be on something besides the conversation.   
"Tyrano!"   
Lumbering feet. The box rattling. A grunt.   
"We've got an eleven!"   
Vegeta and Trunks drew next. They returned, Vegeta having picked a one and Trunks moaning about being number thirteen.   
Tonkeshin tuned out the rest. He just heard names and numbers, but didn't really process them. Brutus pulled number two from the box. . .and immediately wet his pants when he realized he'd be fighting Vegeta. Other fighters laughed at the poor guy.   
It wouldn't have been so bad if Tonk wasn't standing right next to him when it happened.   
Excitement was giving way to a sudden rush of nervousness.   
What if he tripped on the way to the ring? Or missed the steps and fell on his face? Would they let him use his cane until he reached the ring? He didn't want to walk out there clinging dependently to someone's arm, his pride wouldn't allow it. But he didn't want to skulk out there like a frightened cat either.   
_I'll just take the cane,_ he told himself. _If they don't like it, too bad, someone can hold it for me while I fight. Yeah, that'll work!_ He made a fist and smiled.   
". . .I'll see you in the semi-finals, Goten." Trunks' voice shot across Tonk's consciousness.   
Goten's reply got lost in the crowd. Or he was moving away, Tonk couldn't tell over all the rock music coming from the arena.   
And then, suddenly. . .   
"There you have it, folks, we have a full board! Heeeeeeere's our line-up for the first round!   
"Starting us off will be Vegeta versus Brutus!   
"Following that is Tonkeshin versus Strawberry!   
"Ma Junior versus Clover!   
"Up next is Goten versus Organza!   
"Starburst versus Oruko!   
"Tyrano versus Pan!   
"Trunks versus Nathan!   
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand. . .our wildcard fighter for this year's Tournament. . .Buu against Mr. Satan!   
"And there you have it, folks! Please feel free to stretch and warm up, the matches begin in exactly one hour! Don't be late or you'll be disqualified. Thank you for your patience!"   
The speakers quit buzzing, which meant the Announcer had left the area.   
Trunks complained from far to the right, "Buu and Mr. Satan? Oh brother! He'll just have Buu let him win so he'll look cool!"   
Tonkeshin felt his stomach turn over and churn. Being excited and nervous didn't do his digestion any favors.   
Performance anxiety. Probably stemming from the time he was forced to play Romeo a high school play, forgot his lines on stage and just stood there stupidly until everybody started laughing. He just hoped he wouldn't forget how to fight and get pulverized by Strawberry's heels! Ouch!   
Piccolo must've noticed the sudden tension. He came in with, "Heh, don't worry about it, Tonkeshin. You'll do okay."   
"Hm? Oh, yeah." Tonk rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. "So what do we do now?"   
"Stretch, warm up, use the restroom, get a drink. . .or in the case of Vegeta and them, eat."   
"Sounds good - hey. . .do you meditate?"   
The other Namek made a very approving, yet amused noise, "All the time."   
"Cool, we could meditate together and just reflect for awhile. Take a breather and clear the air." Tonk smiled, "Besides, it's not like anybody will bother us with you sitting nearby. Seems like everybody avoids you. Must be the scowl."   
A snort. "Riiiiiight, just like your smile acts as a magnet."   
Brief chuckling ensued between them.   
"C'mon then, Piccolo, let's find a quiet spot and speed this hour by before I explode from all the excitement. Know any good places where nobody will harass us?"   
"I know several. Come."   
Piccolo's footsteps were already moving away. Once again Tonkeshin had to jog to catch up. He followed Piccolo through a maze and turns until, finally, they stopped behind a warm wall that muffled pretty much everything but their breathing. The area smelled heavily of dust, cement and sun-heated brick.   
"Here, people may walk by, but they won't come back to where we are. We're behind the garden." The low, raspy voice suggested Piccolo was already seated on the ground.   
Tonk eased into the lotus position directly across from him. Coldness from the cement seeped into his rear end, giving him goosebumps.   
Briefly, he sensed Trunks and Goten horsing around on the other side of the wall. It went on until Vegeta put a stop to it with a few harsh words. Tonk's eyes narrowed. Regardless of the stories he'd been told, he still felt anger towards that Saiyajin for what he did on Namek.   
_No, he's not important right now. . .calm down. Calm. . .like the sea on a clear day._ He forced the rage from his mind and closed his eyes. Focused fully on utter stillness.   
Tonkeshin let everything go except for the presence in front of him. In such close quarters it was easy to sense Piccolo's mind. Sharp as a tack and faster than a steel trap. He grinned when he felt the deep-rooted cunning.   
_My mind is a dangerous place to be, Tonkeshin._   
_ Yeah? I'm not too worried. You wouldn't hurt me. I know you wouldn't._   
_ I might not, but he could. . ._ Piccolo's energy signature shifted from warm to deathly cold. It felt like a brewing storm, both frightening and hostile. A complete antithesis to Tonkeshin's own thoughts and feelings.   
_He? Who is 'he'?_   
No reply.   
A horrible foreboding crept into Tonk's mind like a demon's skeletal fingers closing on his skull. He moved below it and shot straight towards something solid. A metal door. He tried the handle, but it wouldn't open. Then he heard the metallic clank of old, heavy iron.   
Chained, the door had been chained shut and wouldn't let him through. Something familiar resided behind it. He could feel it!   
And then, suddenly, he found himself closed off completely from the other Namek's thoughts. The world re-established itself around him - sounds of people, smells of food, cement and brick, and the warmth of the sun.   
"'He' is the one whose evil created me. Though I've overcome the dark tendencies I was intended for, I still have his seal on my soul. Nothing. . .not time or deed. . .will erase that. It's a constant fight, Tonkeshin, one I wish no one to see."   
"It sounds like an awful burden to - "   
Piccolo huffed and uncurled to his feet. His tone suggested they should change the subject. "The hour's up. We should get back."   
"Really? So quickly?" Tonk went to check the watch he wasn't wearing. He kept forgetting he didn't put it back on.   
No comment from the tall one over there. Piccolo's only response was to start walking. Tonk hurried up to follow. 
>>>> 
>>>> They arrived at the waiting area just in time to hear Vegeta and Brutus being called out. And the thud of Brutus being knocked outside the ring. It was over before the Announcer even had time to finish shouting the word "begin!".   
"Egad! I don't feel so ready for this, I thought I'd have more time!" The onrush of nerves nearly made Tonk sick to his stomach.   
"What's the matter?" Vegeta was suddenly in front of him. The smell of Saiyajin sweat permeated the air all around. "Afraid of a female? Are you _sure_ you should be here, Namek?"   
With his blood boiling, Tonk forced calm into his voice, "I have as much right to be here as you." _Saiyajin scum_, he added silently.   
Anything else Vegeta said got lost in the crowd's roar. Tonkeshin heard his and Strawberry's names being called.   
_Well, here I go_...   
Tonkeshin trailed around the paper sign blocking the door and stepped out into the sun's warmth. Cheers erupted immediately.   
"TONK! TONK! TONK! TONK!" they chanted in unison.   
"At least I know who saw the news story," he muttered jokingly.   
Stiletto heels clicked past. Tonkeshin let Strawberry go ahead and used her footsteps, along with the tapping of his cane and the shoreline of grass lining the path, to guide him towards the ring.   
"Both Tonkeshin and Strawberry are first time competitors. Little is known about the lovely Strawberry. . .she didn't tell us much. . .but we do know she's been taking martial arts classes since a young age and hopes to win the prize money so she can start her own business!"   
Tonkeshin winced inwardly. He was halfway to the ring when the Announcer's voice rang out.   
"Blind since birth, Tonkeshin came here to find out what he's made of. If you've seen the news story on him, you know what I'm talking about!"   
More cheers.   
_Ugh. . .not as bad as I thought, but did he have to throw in the blind thing? Good grief_.   
Tonk heard Lians' rough voice somewhere off to the left. He couldn't make out what he was saying, but he knew he was there. And Greg. . .he didn't hear him at all. At least not until the roar died down.   
"Blackjack!" the cry came from the left as well. Tonk faced that way, grinned and waved. A few more cheers went up. He turned forward and kept walking.   
The tip of his cane bumped into the first step. Tonk checked it, stepped up and walked to the center of the ring.   
_This is the greatest moment of my life. I'm here. . .I'm really here!_ He couldn't help the silly grin twitching at his lips. It made looking serious impossible! He finally gave in and allowed himself one quick chuckle.   
"You shouldn't be laughing when you're about to lose. It's only fitting that we wind up together in the first match." Strawberry spoke with an obviously disguised voice.   
Tonk guessed it was some kind of synthesizer hidden in the neckpiece of her costume - this was based on assuming the costume covered her neck. One thing was certain. . .he didn't recognize the voice at all. Silly as it was the device served its purpose.   
"How do you know I'm going to lose?" He folded his cane and held it out sideways. An official politely took it from him. He went on, "You've never seen me fight."   
Strawberry refrained from further comment. Tonkeshin took this as his cue to assume a fighting pose, so he widened his stance, brought his arms up in a defensive posture and waited, his heart thudding hard behind his breastbone.   
Off to the side he heard the sound of drums being pounded. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.   
Tonk felt each beat deep in his bones. He relaxed for maximum freedom of movement. Let his mind clear of all thought. There was only him, the drums and his opponent.   
"Readyyyyyyy!"   
The drumbeats assumed a maddening tempo. It was almost a steady sound. Tonk licked his lips slowly in anticipation.   
A gong crashed.   
"BEGIN!"   
Silence fell over the crowd as if a hand had been clamped over every mouth. Only random cheers filtered through.   
Tonk stared into space, his ears straining for any sign of Strawberry's whereabouts. Didn't take much - her heels gave her away. He heard every step when she charged.   
Tonk didn't move. The heels came closer.   
Ten feet.   
Five feet.   
Two feet. He heard the 'oomph' of Strawberry leaping into the air. The oncoming wind of a kick.   
Tonkeshin bent over backwards and let the kick pass over his stomach. He pushed off with his arms. Strawberry passed right underneath him.   
"Strawberry starts us off with an amazing snap-kick! Tonkeshin's gotten away for the moment. . ." the Announcer dripped excitement into his voice, ". . .hold onto your seats, folks, this looks like it'll be one to remember!"   
"Damn," Tonk heard his opponent curse.   
That told him exactly where she was.   
He came in for a landing next to her and aimed a chop for her neck. She dodged, grabbing his arm. Tonk reached for what he thought was an arm. His hand landed squarely on a voluptuous breast.   
". . .HEY!"   
SMACK!   
"Ack!" Tonk rubbed his cheek where he'd been slapped. "Sorry, it was an accident!" Two more slaps landed on him. Hard ones! "Ack! ACK!" He had to keep jumping backwards to get away, but she was chasing him! He was forced to run!   
"It looks like Strawberry took offense to Tonkeshin's grab! She's chasing him around the ring! How about that!"   
"Really, it was an accident!" Tonk shrieked. He spun to face Strawberry and reason with her.   
Swoosh!   
Ker-THUNK!   
Her stiletto heel smashed right into his jaw.   
CRACK!   
. . .and broke!   
More surprised than actually in pain, Tonk forced himself to block her oncoming punches, kicks and chops. The broken heel had her way off balance, thus slowing her attacks.   
"Do you think we could settle this - " he ducked a roundhouse kick, wide-eyed. "peacefully?"   
"Maybe when somebody wins."   
Tonk ducked another punch. "Then I'll make this quick." He caught her fist the next time she threw a punch.   
"Let go!" Strawberry struggled, but couldn't escape. "Let go, now!"   
The Announcer cried, "Tonkeshin now has Strawberry in some kind of a hold!"   
Tonkeshin mentally followed the woman's arm up to her neck. She tried to wrench away. He pulled her close a knocked her out with a quick chop to the neck. Something metal hit the ground when she went limp.   
Tonk let Strawberry fall, bowed respectfully and backed away so the Announcer could count.   
Strawberry didn't move until the Announcer had reached eight. She seemed to regain her wits just as the number ten blared over the speakers.   
"And Tonkeshin is our winner! Give the man a hand!"   
The entire stadium exploded with cheers. Though the victory thrilled Tonkeshin, he felt it wasn't really earned. Strawberry never had a chance. She got lucky at the beginning, but he easily overpowered her in the end.   
"Here's your cane."   
"Oh, thanks!" He grinned towards the official, his fingers closing around the smooth leather handle.   
Other officials gathered around Strawberry and helped her to her feet. She was dazed, but unharmed. Her one undamaged heel clicked unsteadily on the stone fighting floor.   
"Figures you'd win. I groaned the minute I saw you draw a three."   
Tonkeshin froze. Without the synthesizer, her voice was unmistakable. What was _she_ doing here?   
". . .Carol?!"   
"Of course." She walked closer. "I said I'd see you in the ring, didn't I? Don't look so surprised, women fight too!"   
He picked his jaw up off the ring floor. "Um, ah. . .huh. . .yeah, I guess so, you almost got me though! Had you not worn those heels you might've done better. I mean. . ." he rubbed his cheeks, "You slap hard, wow! Remind me not to make you angry ever again."   
"Pfft. Maybe, but this outfit looks awful without heels. Not that you'd notice." Carol giggled and Tonk felt her rub his chest affectionately. "I guess I'll go change and sit in the stands to watch the rest of this. . .at least after the doctors okay me."   
"Uh," Tonk tried not to show his discomfort when she touched his chest. Her touch would always make him uncomfortable. Even if they did sort out their differences. . .he wouldn't entirely forget she tried to stalk him. "Thanks for the good match, I guess. You okay?"   
"Fine. I'm fine." The hand retreated along with one clicking heel.   
Tonk heard the Announcer shout something about a crush. His face burned, but he smiled and made his way out of the ring.   
_Well, that was a pretty exciting first match. And with a surprise to boot! Not the most pleasant surprise, I'll admit, but still more than I hoped for_.   
He stopped just inside the doorway when another thought struck him. A fangy grin played across his lips.   
_Piccolo's going to easily win his match. Next round. . .it'll just be me and him, one on one. I can't wait!_   
"See you in round two," He told Piccolo on the way by.   
"Count on it." said Piccolo in reply. Then there was the swish of his cape as he headed out to the ring.   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Pheeeeeeewwwwwwww! LONG chapter! There just wasn't a good place to end it without getting all the action in. 
>>>> 
>>>> I felt the plot needed a little twist when I wrote this chapter. Were you surprised when you found out who Strawberry was? grins You just can't get rid of her! 
>>>> 
>>>> Hope you enjoyed this first taste of the action. More to come next time!


	19. 19

> > > > > Quick note: I apologize in advance for Vegeta's use of the F-word in this chapter. Only happens twice, but I wanted to warn you first.   
  
  
  

>>>>> 
>>>>> Blending In   
19   
  
  
  

>>>> 
>>>> The cheering crowd drowned out the sound of a body landing just outside the ring. Tonkeshin heard Clover's sniffles come towards him. He caught the fox boy's shoulder before he could pass.   
"Hey, don't feel so bad about losing. Piccolo is a tough guy, you just drew a bad number."   
"B-but I froze," Clover's childlike voice shivered. It was hard to hear him over the Announcer proclaiming Piccolo as the winner.   
"We all lose to a nasty opponent some time in our lives. I have and I know how humiliating and painful it is. But just standing up and trying is a brave thing to do. . .most people tend to run away from Piccolo." Tonk smiled reassuringly and let go of Clover's shoulder. "Train hard and next time I'm sure you'll do better."   
Clover stood there until he stopped crying. "Thank you." Then Tonk heard him shuffle on into the hall.   
Two people snickered. Somebody mumbled the word 'crybaby'.   
Tonk felt a presence block the arena sounds coming in through the door. He turned towards it.   
"Hey, Piccolo."   
"I went easy on the kid." Piccolo's soft rasp reverberated in the stone room. "He's more scared than hurt."   
Tonkeshin nodded. "I think - "   
Footsteps scrambled out of the restroom. Whoever it was, they were female and in a panic. "Brutus collapsed in the bathroom! He puked up blood and fell over! Get some help!"   
"Starburst, you found him, go stay. I'll get a doctor."   
Two sets of feet thundered out of the small room. Tonk hugged the wall to avoid the stampede.   
Piccolo exhaled through his nose. His tone sounded unimpressed, "Vegeta did kick him pretty hard in the stomach. I wouldn't be surprised if that human has severe internal injuries. Their weak bodies can't handle such hard blows."   
"Too bad restraint isn't a word in the Saiyajin dictionary." Tonk glared in Piccolo's general direction. "The only thing they're good for is to destroy things."   
"I'm not going to defend the Saiyajin race, Tonkeshin, but not _all_ of them are monsters."   
"Well I'm sorry I haven't seen the good side of the race. All I know is they were a menace to the universe and - "   
Tonk suddenly found himself seized by the throat and slammed hard against the stone wall behind him. The two gloved hands held him there like a vice.   
"You green freak," Vegeta's hot breath and spit showered Tonk's face. "My people were warriors, we had _pride_. I'm the only one left that remembers my world's honor! We rid the universe of weaklings so the strong could survive - "   
"Honor?" Tonkeshin spat back. He lowered his eyes towards where he hoped Vegeta's were and narrowed them. His smooth baritone voice lowered an octave and gained a raspy edge, "There's no honor in obliterating other people's homes. And if the Saiyajin race was so strong, why did Freeza destroy your planet?"   
"Fuck you, Namek! _Fuck you!_" Vegeta slammed him against the wall a second time, making stone and brick crack audibly. His voice trembled in rage, "You don't know _anything_!"   
The iron hands let go. Tonk slipped to the floor and rubbed his throat, his head throbbing from the double blows against the wall. He heard Vegeta snort derisively and storm from the small waiting area.   
"Idiot," muttered another competitor. Somebody else laughed.   
Tonk slowly climbed back to his feet, his face burning. That stunt further drove a stake into his beliefs about the Saiyajin race - and Vegeta. They were monsters. All of them.   
"Your cane," said Piccolo.   
"Thanks." Tonk took it and faced the door. His bruised pride smarted worse than the back of his head. He forced his voice back up to its normal range. "That proves it. Vegeta is a total bastard."   
"I'm not going to defend him or you."   
Tonkeshin managed a smile even though he didn't really feel like smiling, "You don't have to. I can take care of myself."   
"And if you're not careful, Vegeta will kill you. He doesn't take kindly to having his race insulted. He has his own honor code that nobody other than Goku understands."   
_Goku_.   
Tonk remembered him from the stories Dende told him. But wasn't he a Saiyajin too? A Saiyajin that _cared_?   
"Piccolo, tell me everything you know about this Goku person."   
Piccolo turned away with a swish of his cape, "It's a long story, Tonkeshin, one best told on another day." Amusement colored his tone, "Sometimes you remind me of him, you two have about the same type of personality. Always happy about something."   
Again, Tonk felt his face get warm. "Honestly? I smile most of the time to look less threatening to the humans I work around. It just became a habit. Maybe you should try it sometime, it'd lift your mood up about ten miles."   
"Feh. I smile when I have a reason to, which isn't often."   
The crowd cheered as someone went down in the ring. A winner was proclaimed. Then footsteps raced out onto the stone walkway and voices mumbled in the distance.   
Feedback shrieked from the speakers. Tonk grabbed his ears, wincing, and he heard Piccolo snarl.   
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Announcer began grimly, "I regret to inform you that Brutus has died due to internal injuries. Because his death is a direct result of Vegeta, I'm afraid Vegeta is disqualified from the Tournament. My condolences to the family of the deceased."   
"WHAT?!" Vegeta's guttural outcry was audible from one end of the arena to the other. "Oh this is pathetic, he wasn't even in the ring when he died!"   
"Sir," An official with a nasal voice cut in, "he died as a result of your blow to the stomach. I'm sorry, it's the rules. If you try to interfere with any future matches today I'll have security escort you out."   
"Don't bother. This Tournament is worthless without Kakarott."   
A swish as Vegeta flew away. Startled gasps followed his ascent and Tonk could feel the Saiyajin's ki moving away.   
"I take it 'Kakarott' is Goku's Saiyajin name?"   
"Yes." Piccolo answered, then turned away to signal he wanted to be left alone. 
>>>> 
>>>> Another match ended. Tonk realized he'd lost track of the fights until he heard Trunks say something about how funny Oruko's face looked when Starburst kicked him in the jewels.   
"I thought my turn would never come," Pan sidled up to stand next to Tonkeshin. She didn't sound the least bit nervous!   
Tonk ruffled the little girl's hair and smiled, "Go easy on the poor guy. I don't think he knows what he's up against."   
Pan giggled, "I'll be really careful."   
Heavy footsteps crashed past them. A large sound-shadow took up residence by the door leading out. Must've been Tyrano, he sure smelled like a lizard.   
"I have to fight a kid, this's lame!" The giant lizard had a hilariously high voice.   
Pan bounded over to the other side of the door. Tonk heard her slip out. Tyrano's presence moved away as well. Sound flooded the small room again.   
As soon as the match began, Tonk heard two slapping noises, Pan's "hi-yah!" and a thud.   
"It's a knock-out! Pan is the winner!" cried the Announcer.   
The next match went pretty much the same. Trunks knocked his opponent out in one blow.   
Everybody in the room went quiet. Another figure stepped in.   
"That's Mr. Satan." Piccolo whispered in Tonk's ear. "Don't take anything he says seriously."   
Tonk took a deep breath and sighed, "I'll try not to. He just better not insult me."   
Piccolo didn't get a chance to reply. Mr. Satan was already standing right in front of them. Tonk could easily smell the overly-applied cologne wafting of the man's skin.   
"So you're the blind guy I saw on the news," Mr. Satan said a little too loudly. He had a rough, boisterous-sounding voice.   
"Yeah. . ." The cologne overdose was making Tonk's eyes water. He blinked a few times to distribute the moisture more evenly.   
"Heh, heh, you fight pretty good for someone that can't see. I haven an opening in one of my training courses if you want to get even better."   
"Uh, no thanks," Tonkeshin kept a straight face and grasped his cane tighter. He felt like everybody was staring at him. "I have other commitments to keep."   
"Hmmmm. Well, keep your fights nice and clean. We don't want anybody else ending up like poor Brutus." Mr. Satan paused as the Announcer called out his and Buu's names. "That's my cue!"   
And he was gone before Tonk could get a final word in, leaving behind a cloud of Passion For Men scent in his wake. Tonk wrinkled his nose. He moved to the door in time to be bombarded by the screaming crowd and a pyrotechnic display of some sort. If this Buu person was in the ring, he certainly didn't hear him step in over all the noise.   
Piccolo joined Tonk by the door. "This won't be anything special. Mr. Satan puts on a show, but it's nothing spectacular."   
Tonk turned his face and eyes towards the voice. "Heh, so what does this Buu guy look like?"   
"He makes your fat human friend look small, let me put it that way. He resembles a balloon in some ways, I guess, with a giant antenna on top of his head. Not someone you can really describe."   
"Interesting."   
The match began. Like Piccolo said, they put on a show that made the crowd roar. 
>>>> 
>>>> Tonk straightened from the drinking fountain, wiped his mouth and stepped aside to let Piccolo take a drink.   
"How much time?"   
Piccolo turned, "Five minutes at most."   
"Okay, be right back." He dodged into the restroom for some much needed relief. If this was the restroom Brutus died in, there wasn't a trace of blood or other body fluids. It smelled as fresh as a citrus field.   
The nerves were coming back worse than before. His antennae wouldn't stop twitching. He splashed some cold water on his face after he washed his hands.   
Somebody forgot a container of petroleum jelly. Tonk smiled when his fingertips encountered the container's familiar shape and promptly re-greased himself.   
Piccolo slipped in to relieve himself as well. He'd been sweating a lot in the stuffy waiting area. The dusty scent was as strong as Mr. Satan's cologne, but not nearly as offensive.   
Tonk politely kept his back turned and finished rubbing the petroleum jelly over his chest. He flexed each pectoral individually, smiling. "Nervous at all?"   
"Not really." The urinal flushed, but Piccolo didn't bother to wash his hands. "And you shouldn't be either. The people came here to see you fight. They aren't waiting for you to make a mistake."   
Tonkeshin jerked his head around to face the other Namek. How did he know that?   
"You know, sometimes I swear you're - "   
No time to finish, their names were being called.   
"It's time." The door squeaked on its old hinges when Piccolo yanked it open. He held it to let Tonk pass. It slammed shut hard behind them.   
Together they emerged into the sun's heat. Cheers and shouts greeted them.   
Tonk focused solely on swinging his cane and walking to the ring. Tap left while the right foot steps. Swing and tap right while the left foot steps. Just like Lians taught him. As long as he paid attention to just that he didn't feel quite as nervous.   
Fifty footfalls later his cane hit the first step. He flipped his cane into the pencil grip, dragged it forward to locate the next step and entered the ring.   
Piccolo waited about six feet in front of him. He chuckled softly under his breath. Tonk heard a soft ker-plunk, then a swish and a louder thud. Piccolo sighed as if in relief and cracked a few joints.   
"WOW! Ma Jr. is taking off his cape and turban. You know what that means, folks! We're in for an intense show!"   
"Heh." Piccolo's smirk broadcasted itself through his voice.   
Tonk prepared himself with a few quick stretches. Excitement drove the nervousness right out of his system. He was about to face a worthy opponent.   
Drums began a slow, ponderous beat. Tonk assumed his usual fighting pose - legs bent and arms at ready. He felt Piccolo do the same.   
**Thumpa. . .thumpa. . .thumpa. . .thumpa, thumpa, thumpa**. . .   
The drums pounded faster. Each beat vibrated through Tonkeshin's sternum until he felt it all through his body. It helped him clear his mind and focus only on his environment and Piccolo.   
**Thumpa, thumpa, thumpa, thumpa-thumpa-thumpa**. . .   
Time held its breath in anticipation. Each drumbeat reverberated into eternity. Tonkeshin felt his heartbeat increase in the same increments as the drums.   
** Thumpa-thumpa-thumpathumpathumpathumpathumpathumpa. . .**   
**_ CRASH_!**   
"BEGIN!"   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Ooh, cliffhanger! 
>>>> 
>>>> Sheepish smile Sorry for the long wait. I had writer's block and was caught up in a lot of RP. It's my own fault for being lazy, I'll try not to let it happen again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. smile 
>>>> 
>>>> I can't believe it, Tonkeshin versus Piccolo. . .this will be a match to remember.


	20. 20

> > > > >   
  
  

>>>>> 
>>>>> Blending In   
20   
  
  

>>>> 
>>>>   
  
Silence.   
Complete and utter silence.   
The kind of silence that's full of electricity and anticipation. Where one's heart skips a beat and has to throb twice the next time to make up for the missed contraction.   
Tonkeshin felt like the bubble of excitement in his stomach crowded out all his other organs. He forced a few deep breaths. Trying not to feel conscious of eyes on him from every angle.   
_They're not waiting for me to fail. . .they're here to see a good fight. That's all. I can do this, I CAN do this!_   
Piccolo's ki vibrations were still in the same place. He hadn't moved. Neither had Tonk. They might as well be two statues positioned outside a coliseum. Forever posed for a historic battle.   
Then. . .   
"Well! It looks as if we have ourselves and old-fashioned stand off!"   
The sudden voice clamored in Tonk's ears like church bells. Erasing whatever focus he had. His startled expression gave him away.   
Piccolo was instantly in front of him. Tonk followed his instinct and dodged sideways. The blow caught his shoulder, knocking him off-balance. He grabbed the arena floor and spun in a quick sweep. His feet only caught wind as Piccolo leapt away.   
"You shouldn't let yourself get distracted so easily," said Piccolo. His raspy voice carried a smirk.   
Tonk's lips twitched. "A momentary lapse, I can assure you."   
Piccolo appeared right there! The wind of an oncoming punch! Tonk caught the fist and thrust his elbow underneath. He nailed a solid stomach. The blow drove Piccolo back a step. Then he stepped into his opponent for a quick throw.   
Piccolo twirled and Tonk found himself flat on his back. The petroleum jelly he'd spread on himself made Piccolo's grip slip just a little. It took the worst away from the impact. Better to have his teeth rattled than his whole body.   
He rolled aside just in time to avoid having his ribs smashed in. Another kick from the other side! Lightning fast! Tonk performed a quick backwards somersault to regain a vertical base. Ouch, his side smarted from that one!   
"And Ma Jr. remains on the offensive!" wailed the Announcer into his microphone. "Can our first-ever blind competitor keep up?"   
_Being blind has nothing to do with it!_ Tonkeshin snarled mentally. He narrowed his eyes. _He's just faster than I expected. . .and can anticipate my moves almost before I make them. It's almost like sparring N_ -   
A flash of idea zapped across Tonkeshin's mind. Piccolo charged and he had to let it go.   
"WWWWOOWW! Both Ma Jr. and Tonkeshin are exchanging heavy blows! You can feel the floor shaking down here, folks! What a match!" The Announcer shouted against the crowd's cheers.   
Tonk caught Piccolo in the jaw with a hard left hook. A swift jab followed, easily blocked. Piccolo kept blocking his attacks as methodically as one might go through a list of names in a phone book. He did seem to have him on the defensive for the moment.   
Until Piccolo elbowed him in the gut.   
Tonkeshin folded completely over and sank to his knees. Air forced itself from his lungs. He gagged on his own spit.   
_He's making me tire myself out. Stupid! I need to back off. . .let him take the offensive for awhile. I just hope I can keep up_.   
"Tonkeshin is down to his knees!" The Announcer stepped closer and whispered, "Ready to give up?"   
Tonk snarled, "I'm not that fragile! No! Go away!"   
Again Piccolo used the distraction against him. Tonk tumbled away from the stomping feet and kipped up. He re-assumed his fighting stance, waiting.   
He felt a faint breeze. Piccolo appeared behind him!   
Tonk ducked an on coming chop that would've put him down for the count. He grabbed Piccolo's arm and hauled him over his shoulder, flinging him to the fighting floor. His body hit with a thud.   
Piccolo sprang away. Tonk heard him land a few feet to the right. The scent of his sweat left a trail as clear as a flight contrail.   
Cheers and shouts erupted from the stands.   
"Dude, he's sneaking up on you!" Somebody screamed from way in the back.   
Tonk spun towards the voice. Piccolo was right there!   
A flurry of kicks, punches and chops came his way. He dodged accordingly. They darted around the ring like dueling wasps, hissing between attacks. The only reason Tonkeshin kept up was his ability to feel the wind of an oncoming strike less than a second before it hit. Even then some still got through. Sometimes he swore Piccolo had six arms because he moved so fast.   
"You're. . .not so bad. . .Piccolo." Tonk's words came in spurts between moves.   
"Feh."   
An uppercut sent Tonk back to the ground. If he could see stars he surely would've right then. He felt like he'd been thrust underwater. Nausea swept by in waves. The ground spun. Sounds took ages to reach him and even longer to make sense. The world threatened to recede completely.   
". . .six! Seven! Eight!"   
Reality snapped back. Tonk's eyes opened wide and he hauled himself to his feet.   
"Tonkeshin is still with us!"   
Tonk wiped a trail of coppery blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned. This Tournament was coming out better than he imagined. Way better.   
"Let's turn this up a notch, Piccolo."   
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Piccolo replied, his tone almost mocking.   
"Yeah. . ." Tonk licked his thin lips clean of blood, "I'm sure."   
A soft chuckle, "Be my guest."   
Tonkeshin widened his stance and lowered the walls around his ki. Letting it bubble up from his depths like a geyser. Warmth enveloped him. His clothes whipped against his skin. He relaxed and let it come up on its own.   
The energy tightened his muscles a bit like armor. He felt stronger, faster and more aware of his surroundings.   
Tonk could sense Piccolo's energy rising as well. His signature had a strange sensation. . .as if three different ki's were mixed into one being.   
No time to ponder, Piccolo charged!   
Tonk felt the oncoming energy as a prickling on his skin. No way to go but up. Piccolo followed. Tonk twisted around to dive. Nobody home, no, wait, Piccolo went left! Right!   
BAM!   
He covered his face. Piccolo's fist jarred his wrists. Tonk shoved the heel of one hand into the other Namek's face.   
Air. Wait. . .wait. . .aim left!   
"Aha!" Tonk chopped sideways. He caught Piccolo's ear. Twice, three times, then Piccolo trapped him in a triple-kick combination that sent him spinning in mid-air.   
There was no using gravity's pull for up and down in a ki battle. He was floating on a cushion of antigravity. Without a visual point of reference it felt to him like he was in space. Flipping uncontrollably in a void. Terrifying.   
The crowd screamed and cheered from far below. Just the reference point he needed!   
Tonk used the sound to distinguish up from down and righted himself. He'd probably flown up a good fifty feet. Sweat dribbled off his forehead. The air felt hot, heavy and humid. Just like on Namek. From his vantage point in the sky he easily picked up the collective scent of sweaty humans and arena food.   
Ki vibrations from above.   
Tonk feigned unawareness and waited. Counting seconds.   
Energy prickle.   
Count, count. . .   
_Five, ten, fifteen_. . .   
NOW!   
Tonkeshin timed it just right. . .by the time he started to backflip Piccolo was beginning to pass him. He brought his feet around as fast as he could.   
Ka-SMACK!   
And planted them both in the base of Piccolo's spine.   
"Urgh!"   
THUD!   
He followed Piccolo's uncontrolled flight. Caught him by the shirt and drove his knee into the same spot. He groped for a leg to keep him there and aimed a third blow.   
_"Always weaken one area and keep attacking it. The more painful you make it, the sooner your opponent will submit."_ Nail used to say. Wise words.   
Piccolo wasn't about to let Tonk get away with it. As if he'd read Tonk's mind, he caught his knee at the next kick, yanked him down and planted a fist square in his forehead.   
Right on the nerve between his antennae.   
The effect was similar to kicking a human in the genitals. Tonk's eyes crossed and he grabbed the affected area with both hands.   
He felt Piccolo palm the back of his head. Strong wind. No! Tonk whirled to backhand his opponent across the face. Piccolo drew back, losing speed. Tonk elbowed him in the gut and dove for the safety of the fighting floor, breathing hard.   
Piccolo's feet touched down with soft pat-click noises. Tonk heard him puffing a little too.   
"So, is that all you've got, Tonkeshin?" Piccolo breathed.   
Tonk straightened with a grin, his chest heaving behind his vest. "Are you kidding? I'm just getting warmed up!"   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Whew! So much action and I'm not even warmed up either! Hehe, I hope this kept you on the edge of your seat for awhile. Just don't lean too far forward and fall off. grin 
>>>> 
>>>> I've been waiting to write this battle for a long time. It's really a test for my writing skills. I hope I do good See ya in the next chapter!


	21. 21

> > > > Blending In   
21
>>>> 
>>>>   
  
"There's something you should know," Piccolo spat bloody mucus onto the fighting floor. He cracked his neck, then his knuckles. A soft grunt punctuated each snapping noise. "I've been going easy on you."   
Tonkeshin raised his eyes until he thought they were staring into Piccolo's. He grinned roguishly. "And here I was going easy on you. Playing, basically."   
A rumbling chuckle.   
"Perhaps it's time we stop playing and get to the real fighting. What do you say, Tonkeshin?"   
Tonk felt his eyes tilt. "Do your worst, Piccolo."   
"Wow!" The Announcer shouted, "It looks like this fight is only going to get more intense!"   
No words, not a breath or a hesitation. Just a soft swish and Piccolo was right behind him. Tonk barely turned in time to avoid having his shoulder punched out of its socket. Piccolo's onslaught was relentless! Tonk barely blocked the punches he threw.   
"Ma Jr. seems to have the upper hand, he's really laying it into Tonkeshin! Can Tonkeshin turn this around?"   
A roundhouse almost knocked Tonk for a loop. He leaned backwards until his hands touched the ground and kicked up with his feet. His toes caught only air. He quickly continued over to regain a vertical base. Piccolo jumped on him again.   
Their battle progressed towards the edge of the ring. Tonkeshin buried his shoulder in Piccolo's gut. He shoved him back into the center of the ring. Piccolo kicked Tonk's legs out from under him. Tonk hit the ground with a sickening thud. He moaned as Piccolo grabbed the edge of his vest and drove an elbow into his side.   
"You're not trying hard enough." Piccolo snarled, "This is still a game to you. I'm not playing anymore. Where's your anger?"   
Tonk's mouth filled with coppery blood. He spat on the floor, rasping, "I have no reason to be angry here. It's a tournament, not a life and death battle."   
The elbow drove itself against his ribs a second time. "Pretend that it is. Otherwise you don't stand a chance against me."   
Another blow came Tonk's way. He rolled aside and kipped up. Piccolo didn't let him breathe. Tonk felt the breeze of an oncoming kick and ducked. Sweeping Piccolo's balancing leg, he groped for his sweat-dampened shirt and flung him towards the edge of the ring.   
There was a soft tap. Piccolo's energy signal split everywhere!   
Tonkeshin turned this way and that, waiting. Warmth from his own energy enveloped him. He lifted his hands over his head.   
The ki signal pulled together - up above!   
"Masenko-HAAAAAA!" Tonk let his gathered ki discharge. He locked his elbows to keep his arms from buckling and braced himself from the backwards thrust. It felt like holding a jet engine above his head. The roar was deafening and drowned out a resounding gasp from the crowd.   
"Tonkeshin is shooting some sort of energy beam!" The Announcer called out.   
Piccolo echoed Tonkeshin. A new tension formed in the beam. The heat it gave off was incredible. Tonk bent his knees for better leverage to deal with both the backwards thrust of his own beam and the pressure from Piccolo's.   
Tonk knew he had one small advantage. . .he was on solid ground. He had something to brace against. Piccolo would be bracing himself against his own energy in the air. That meant he'd drain faster.   
Now he just hoped Piccolo tired out first.   
Tonkeshin's arms started to burn. Thrusting a beam straight up generated more pressure than shooting forward. This couldn't go on too much longer.   
"I'm. . .beyond words for this, folks!" The Announcer sounded frazzled. He was barely audible over the roar. "It would appear that our two green competitors are having an energy duel! It's really windy down here and I might have to take cover, but I promise I'll keep covering this battle!"   
Intense, painful burning. Tonk knew that if Piccolo overpowered his beam he'd be thrown straight from the ring. He aligned his legs for a better foothold. Called on his energy stores. The pressure lessened.   
Tonk relaxed his muscles, taking the lid off his ki. He straightened his body - Nail always said that energy traveled better in straight lines - and let loose.   
The surge almost knocked him over. Every muscle in his body tightened, including his larynx. His involuntary cry was echoed by Piccolo's. He felt his own masenko beam envelope his hands. The light must've been blinding.   
Everything in the arena shook. The air exploded, sledgehammer shockwaves smashing Tonkeshin against the fighting floor. He let himself fall so the impact could spread out on his whole body and minimize the damage.   
The Announcer shouted something, but Tonk didn't pay attention. He forced his aching body to stand.   
Heavy breathing on the left. Tonk thrust his elbow at the sound. He felt Piccolo catch it and wrench his arm behind him.   
"Still not good enough." Piccolo hissed.   
Tonkeshin snarled over his shoulder. Piccolo had his arm folded against his back, he couldn't turn without breaking it.   
"What do you WANT from me?"   
"Fight serious," a hand locked itself under Tonk's chin and turned his head sideways. Piccolo's voice was right in his ear, "Or you'll just end up losing. Like you did against Freeza. What a pathetic way to die. . .you might've had a chance if you could see. Maybe you would've been better off if you just took Nail's advice and gone back to Saichirou where it was safer."   
Tonk's breath caught in his throat. His half-smile melted into a sneer and his eyes narrowed to slits. How dare Piccolo say that about him! It was the same damn thing everybody always said, 'oh, go over here where it's safer.' It really meant 'oh, go over here where you'll be out of the way.' As if he were an obstacle in everybody's life.   
"Piccolo," Tonkeshin's smooth baritone voice lowered an octave. When he spoke, it was colder than ice, "I am _not_ helpless. How dare you even imply it."   
The hands holding his arm pinned tightened their grip. So tight the bones ground together. "If that's the case, then why are you in this position? Don't tell me Nail never taught you how to escape a simple hold."   
Tonkeshin wrenched his leg backwards to kick Piccolo's knees. He spun free of the armlock and buried his elbow in the other Namek's stomach.   
"Get up," he rasped, "and I'll show you just how helpless I can be."   
A sucker punch almost turned his head completely around. "Bring it on, Tonkeshin."   
"The taunts are flying!" cried the excited Announcer. "Who will crack first? You can cut the tension with a butter knife down here!"   
Tonk recovered from the surprise blow. No sign of Piccolo anywhere. He turned left, right and left again. Not a flicker. _Crap, where's he hiding?_   
"On your right."   
Another punch. Tonk barely avoided it. He backflipped three times to put distance between himself and his opponent. All excitement from being in the tournament disappeared. It was survival now.   
"This isn't funny anymore, stop it. C'mon now. . ."   
Faint air disturbances. Tonk spun around. Two iron hands caught his punches. They twisted his arms in the wrong direction and a jackhammer knee pummeled his abdomen. More blood rose into his throat, making him gag. Breathing became a struggle. He dropped to one knee.   
"I'm wasting my time." Piccolo sounded disappointed.   
Tonkeshin choked on his own blood. "I'm. . .not done yet! HAAAAAAAAAAH!" He flung a blast in Piccolo's face. Smiling when he heard the thud of a body hitting the fighting floor.   
Tonk forced himself to stand. He was dirty, bloody and his clothes were a little ragged. The petroleum jelly he'd so carefully spread on his skin was long since washed away in the sweat layering his body. He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.   
_I'm not sure I can win this one. . ._ Tonk stared blankly ahead, _Piccolo is a strong, smart and intense warrior. His moves are hard to anticipate, he doesn't stay in a pattern like most fighters. What's his rhythm? I need to find at least that. . .then I might have a chance. If I can just synchronize with him I'll have a small chance. I have to take it_.   
_But gosh darn it, why does fighting him feel so familiar?_   
He eased into a fighting stance and listened for signs of Piccolo. The other Namek wasn't making any sound.   
Tonk's antennae twitched. He felt like the whole arena was staring at him. It made him nervous.   
His nose picked up body odor. He ducked. Piccolo's fist sailed over his back. Tonk lunged into him and flipped him down, digging his heel into his ribs.   
"Anybody ever tell you deodorant will get you more friends?"   
Piccolo flipped him over and pinned him to the ground, "I don't live with humans, nor do I wish to spread chemicals under my arms."   
Tonk reversed the pin, "No wonder people avoid you. You smell. I hope you plan to shower after this is all over."   
"Feh." Piccolo's entire frame shifted, breaking Tonk's hold.   
The Announcer coughed a laugh, "I don't know the details here, but it sounds as if Tonkeshin and Ma Jr. are discussing. . .deodorant?!"   
The silliness of it made Tonk laugh. He rubbed the back of his head as a few drops of sweat dripped off his temple.   
"Degree all the way!" Someone shouted.   
"No way, Secret!" Another voice answered.   
A high voice from the back, "Mitchum beats all!"   
More people shouted different brands.   
Tonk arched a brow, then shrugged. "I use Sure."   
He felt rather than heard Piccolo hide his face in his palm. "Can we get back to the match?"   
"Sure, no problem!" Tonk charged Piccolo, laughing, "You'll have to try harder if you want to see me mad, though!"   
Piccolo dodged the onslaught. His voice came from the right, "Believe me, I will."   
  

>>>> 
>>>> Author's note: Today is a very special day. -grin- Tonkeshin's birthday, he's officially one year old. -throws a party- I worked extra hard to get this chapter done so I could post it exactly on the fourteenth of June. I can't believe I've kept this fic going for a year. Can you? 
>>>> 
>>>> See ya in the next chapter!


	22. 22

Quick note: Due to this site taking out double spaces, I'll be using a 0 as a spacer. I apologize if it fails to save my indents. It's how I learned to write in school and I have a very hard time writing a story in the same format as my notes at the end of the chapters. 

Sorry for the wait! 

0 

Blending In   
22

0 Blood and stone were two of the worst tastes in the world, Tonkeshin decided. He pushed himself up off the fighting floor Piccolo just slammed him into for the tenth time in a row.   
Piccolo landed nearby, his clothes torn and dampened by sweat. Tonk listened to his ragged breathing. He smiled to himself. A tiny cut on his bottom lip stung in protest. _Well, at least I made him breathe hard, that has to count for something_.   
"Nice high kick you got there."   
"Thanks." Tonk faked a bow. As he bent over, he rushed straight at the sound of Piccolo's panting. His fist hit empty air.   
"Spectacular lunge!" Shouted the Announcer from the side, "but Tonkeshin is in for a surprise!"   
_Don't help me, Announcer, I can do this myself!_   
Muscle bound arms wrapped around Tonk's middle. Tonk opened his mouth wide in shock as he got suplexed right back onto the floor he ate two minutes ago.   
His frustration level rose another notch. "You know, I'm really getting tired of this floor."   
"Feh," spat Piccolo, "then come do something about it."   
Tonkeshin struggled to push up. Piccolo outweighed him by at least ninety to a hundred pounds. All muscle, he noticed with dismay. Fatigue was setting in and he didn't know if he still had the energy to keep wrestling like this.   
"I have a question for you." Piccolo's voice vibrated through his arm, a sensation Tonk found unpleasant.   
The air puffed from Tonk's lungs. "Go ahead."   
Piccolo tightened his grip, "Where were you when Freeza attacked Nail? I didn't see your body anywhere."   
Pain shot through Tonkeshin's shoulder. He gritted his teeth.   
"Do you wish to give up?"   
He startled, he didn't hear the Announcer approach!   
"NO!" snarled Tonk, "Get away before you get hurt!"   
"Answer my question!" growled Piccolo, "Where were you?"   
"GAAAH! I was. . .sent out to. . ." he panted, "get water for the wounded villagers. I hurried to Nail when I felt his ki dying."   
Tonk felt the pressure on his shoulder ease a bit. Sweat dripped in his eyes, making them sting. He licked his lips and tasted a mix of salt, water, blood and stone. It burned when he swallowed.   
Piccolo was sweating pretty heavily. Every breath Tonk took carried the dusty, salty scent of his perspiration.   
"Tonkeshin. . ." he said, "did it ever occur to you that the villagers thought you were in the way and just needed an excuse to get rid of you for awhile?"   
"What the hell kind of question is that?"   
"You probably stood there in the middle of all that madness, wondering what was going on. You've never seen war before then, have you?"   
"No," Tonk gasped, "but that didn't mean I was in the way, either."   
"Then why did they send you out and not someone else?"   
Tonk bit his lip and stared into the void. Had he really been in the way on that fateful day? Were they really just trying to get rid of one nuisance so they could deal with Vegeta?   
The decision saved his life.   
"I wasn't injured." Tonk grunted. "I could still run."   
He heard Piccolo snort derisively, "Yeah, you ran all right. You ran right to Freeza and got yourself killed."   
"I was avenging my teacher!"   
"And you failed."   
"So?"   
"You failed because you're blind, Tonkeshin." Piccolo said each word slowly, as if spelling it out. "I bet Nail just took you in and trained you because he felt sorry for you."   
Piccolo's words shot across Tonk's brain like a spear. Of all the stupid, stereotypical, idiotic, ignorant things he'd heard in his life, that had to be the worst.   
And it stung worse than the sweat in his eyes.   
"That's not true," he whispered, "I admit that my training did take longer than average, but I did it. He wouldn't have taken me as a student if he didn't believe I could be trained to fight."   
Another snort. "Everybody in this arena feels sorry for you."   
Heat pulsed in Tonkeshin's stomach. "Bullshit!"   
"That's all people ever notice about you. That cane you tap around, how your eyes stare and how you grope around to find something two inches from your nose. It's pathetic."   
Tonk tried to swallow, but his throat clutched tight. Fatigue took a back seat to the new tension rippling up his spine. Piccolo's words drilled painfully through his consciousness and fell into a well of anger he always kept under a lid of tolerance.   
His heart throbbed faster. Blood roared in his ears. Veins pulsed on his forehead.   
"So, what are you trying to say, Piccolo?" he asked softly.   
The smirk on Piccolo's face showed in his voice, "Just that, everywhere you go, everybody's going to remember you as 'the blind green guy'."   
Tonk allowed himself a deep breath, forcing the lid of tolerance to slip off rather than explode to send rage everywhere.   
"Piccolo?" he spoke in a voice an octave lower than usual.   
The other Namek grunted in reply.   
Ki crackled around Tonk's frame. He blew Piccolo clean off his back and stood up, glaring towards the sound of impact. The Announcer shouted something about the energy wave, but Tonkeshin didn't listen.   
"Being blind is part of who I am, but it's _not_ me. If that's all you notice, then you see even less than I do."   
No answer from Piccolo.   
A cool breeze flitted across his skin, cooling the sweat on his brow and toying with the ends of his vest. It did little to ease the burning anger crawling under his skin.   
Of all the things Tonk hated in the universe, pity topped his list.   
"Come on, Piccolo. I know you're not hurt."   
Silence.   
He growled, "Get over here! I'll show you exactly why nobody needs to pity me!"   
Haymaker out of nowhere. Tonk hit the floor hard, snarled and flipped to his feet. Every sense stood on edge. He strained his ears and - there!   
"Found you." he dropped and swept Piccolo's legs.   
Piccolo jumped.   
Tonkeshin smiled inwardly. He jammed his shoulder into the ground mid-spin to force more momentum, rolling from shoulder to upper back to the other shoulder. Then he pushed his hips upwards, gaining speed. His long legs kicked up like a breakdancer's.   
And Piccolo landed right in the middle of his rotating feet. The effect was similar to throwing rocks in a blender.   
"Oofoofoof!"   
Tonk sandwiched Piccolo's head between his ankles and flung him against the stone floor. The stone crumbled on impact. Rock fragments stung his knees and shins. But, as much as that hurt, Piccolo had to be hurting worse.   
He sat up, panting and rubbing his scraped shoulders. Off to the left, he could hear Piccolo's clothes sliding as he moved around.   
"If Nail pitied me, he wouldn't have taken me as a student."   
A snide chuckle. "You're right."   
"They seem to be catching their breath." shouted the Announcer with glee, "That was AMAZING! Makes me miss high school!"   
Curling his lip, Tonk kipped up. "You wanted me mad, I'm mad. Now get up."   
"Gladly."   
Next thing Tonk knew, Piccolo was above him. He felt a ripple of ki, gasped and jumped backwards. A ki blast scorched the floor inches from his toes.   
He spun and flung one at Piccolo's ki signature. The other Namek dodged.   
Sound shadow on the left. The breeze of a kick!   
Tonk caught Piccolo's extended leg, but Piccolo continued around. He let go of the leg to block the other one.   
A cheer from the audience. Too close!   
He ran a quick mental calculation. Two more steps and he'd fall out.   
Another kick.   
Tonk's feet scraped the ring's edge. He lunged forward, slamming himself and Piccolo back towards the center.   
"I'm not an idiot, I know where the edges are by listening to the crowd."   
"Good," came the cool reply, "then I know you won't fall out like a disappointing sissy."   
They locked again in a flurry of punches and kicks. The Announcer kept the audience abreast of their too-fast-to-really-follow actions.   
_Enough of this_, Tonkeshin growled. Flinging Piccolo off his back, he squared his stance and called on the ki deep in his soul. He reached down into the boiling pot of rage and tapped into power he never knew existed.   
Piccolo landed six feet away. He panted, growled and began gathering ki of his own.   
It was a race between who could power up first.   
_I started first. . .that may give me an advantage. He powers up faster than I do._ Tonk reassured himself with a nod, his face tight and determined.   
"There's a lot of energy flowing here!" cried the Announcer. The wind roared across his microphone.   
He smirked, _I guess it's true, only avid ki users can actually see auras. The audience must think we're glaring at each other while a lot of wind blows around. Heh, humans are funny_.   
"Get ready, Tonkeshin," said Piccolo, his voice strained with effort, "this is your moment."   
"Don't patronize me, Piccolo," growled Tonk. He pulled harder on his ki stores, feeling the heat ooze off his body in waves. The wind was really just a bunch of electromagnetic waves blasting off his aura like a solar wind. It just had more density than the solar wind - hence nasty side effects like craters and cars impaled in buildings.   
_Hold on, if he's taking on a positive charge_. . .   
"_Masenko -_ " Piccolo began.   
_. . .then I'll take a positive and it'll blast him right out of the ring!_   
Tonk inverted his hands, forcing his energy across an altered path, and let loose.   
"_HAAA!_"   
Time ceased to exist. Tonkeshin remained frozen in his _masenko_ posture. All his prayers rested on the blazing energy ball whizzing towards Piccolo's expelled ki signature.   
He didn't have to wait long.   
Both _masenko_ blasts slammed together with deafening force. Each quivering like twin magnets of the same polarity trying to repel each other.   
_I gotta be careful. If I let go, this thing will bounce off Piccolo's and come right back at me_.   
Backlash nearly ripped Tonk off his feet. He dug his toes into a crack in the fighting floor and fought to stay his course. Piccolo pushed back. The energy threatened to rip his shoulders from their sockets. His muscles burned.   
People in the audience started screaming. Food wrappers, hats, anything loose went flying.   
"It's another energy struggle! Parts of the ring are breaking up! Cover your heads, folks, this is dangerous!"   
Piccolo's ki wavered.   
Tonk pushed against it.   
Piccolo shoved back.   
Growling, Tonk forced the tug of war into the ring's center. His shoulders screamed in agony. Pain raced up his legs. The ki he released reached a peak so high it nearly penetrated the nothingness surrounding his world.   
Quakes shook the arena. More people screamed. The floor sagged under Tonk's feet.   
His soles scraped the shattered stone. He sensed Piccolo sliding too.   
Suddenly, a huge backlash wave blasted Tonk airborne. He flipped end over end, struggling to distinguish up from down. Vertigo distorted his senses.   
THUD!   
Tonk landed flat on his back, wide eyed and panting. Imaginary gongs rang in his ears. His head buzzed.   
Something tickled his ear.   
_Grass? There's no grass in _-   
Reality crystallized.   
Tonkeshin lay there, horrified with the realization that he just landed outside the ring. He'd lost. He'd _lost_.   
"WOW! This is a first for the World Martial Arts Tournament! Both of our combatants have landed outside the ring at the SAME TIME!"   
_What!_   
The Announcer cried out, "I've just been informed that, due to both competitors having a ring-out, neither are qualified to continue to the next round. This match is a draw! How about that! What a FIGHT!"   
Cheers surrounded the fighting ring.   
"Hey."   
Tonk turned towards the low voice, "Nice blast, Piccolo."   
"Feh."   
"Tonk! Tonk!" Heavy feet thudded in the grass. "Tonk, how many fingers am I holding up?"   
"Greg?" he reached out, felt the coarse, beefy fingers waving in front of his face and smirked, "forty two."   
Greg laughed and hauled him upright, "He's fine."   
Wobbling from dizziness, Tonk punched his human friend in the shoulder. Then his world faded. 

0

Distant voices.   
". . .slight concussion. He'll be fine."   
Scents of disinfectant. Iodine and alcohol.   
Greg's echoing reply, "And the big guy?"   
A chirping female voice, "Up and about already."   
Tonkeshin touched his forehead and groaned. His fingers encountered a rough gauze pad taped just above his aching antenna. He blinked and ran a hand over his face and neck. Each painful spot told him where he was either bruised or cut.   
_Wow, not as bad as I thought I'd be_.   
He closed his eyes to concentrate. His wounds closed and the bruises faded. Except for being sore, he was pretty much all right.   
Sounds from outside muffled. A body blocked the door. Tonk turned towards it, wary. "Who's there?"   
"Me," came Piccolo's gruff reply.   
His face lit up. He peeled the gauze off his forehead. "Hey! Are you okay? Did you get knocked out too?"   
Piccolo walked forward, bringing his scent and voice closer, "Only for a minute."   
To Tonk's chagrin, Piccolo hadn't showered before coming into the room. Nice guy, but smelly when he perspired. Right as he thought of that, he realized he probably needed to take a shower himself.   
"Man," he stretched, "I could use a hot shower right about now. How about you?"   
"Feh." Piccolo snorted, "I guess I better. I certainly won't sweat this mud off."   
"Mud?"   
"You blasted me into a mud puddle."   
Tonk covered a smile with both hands. So _that_ was why he smelled a little more earthy than usual. "Sorry."   
No, he wasn't really that sorry.   
"Tch, c'mon. Grab your cane off the table."   
He felt around, found the table and spider walked his fingers until he located his smooth cane. Smiling, he let gravity unfold it. The cane seemed to cast a spell that turned all chaos into order.   
"Okay, I'm right behind you."   
Upon rising, he felt his antennae tap against something above his bed. He ducked and raised a hand to see what almost took his head off. _Who the heck would put a shelf there?_   
"Heh, guess those things have some use after all."   
"I know, but I don't do radios."   
"Feh." Piccolo cracked his knuckles and slipped out.   
"Hey! Tonk!" Called Greg from down the hall. A nurse tried to hush him, but he continued, "You overgrown booger, you shouldn't be up! What are you doing!"   
With an ear on Piccolo's progress, Tonk slowed his pace. "Beefcake, I'm fine. I'm just going to go clean up."   
"Butthead." Greg caught his arm to halt his progress, "I'm going to go watch the rest of the Tournament. My seat got trashed, so me and those other green guys - "   
"Dende and Lians," he corrected him.   
"Yeah, them, I'll be sitting up there. Don't get lost and make me send a search party."   
"Nah, send the strippers." Tonk gave Greg a light shove, "That way I can follow the trail of lacy bras and g-strings."   
"BAH!" A beefy hand clapped his shoulder. "And you call _me_ a pervert."   
"Because you are."   
Both laughed.   
Greg hustled to feed change into a vending machine. Tonk took a few skipping steps to catch up with Piccolo.   
"Sorry, Greg just wanted to tell me where he's going," he said as they passed through the locker room and slipped into steamy, humid air.   
His cane detected smooth tile and a wall. The bathroom split two ways. A shower hissed on the right. Turning that way, he tapped his way towards the curtain.   
"Phew, I really reek."   
"I generally don't notice my own smells." Piccolo muttered. Water slapped loudly on his skin and splattered all over the floor. He hadn't even bothered to pull the shower curtain around.   
Tonk shrugged, folded his cane, stripped naked and turned on the spigot right next to Piccolo's. "Heh, no wonder you don't realize you stink when you sweat."   
"I said I don't notice my _own_ smells," said Piccolo. "The soap is -"   
"Piccolo. . .it's okay. I can smell where the soap is. I hate it when people try to be over protective," he smiled brightly and lathered himself up. "but thanks anyway."   
Silence.   
"Something wrong?"   
"You just grabbed _my_ soap." There was a smirk in his voice.   
Laughing, Tonk held it up to him, one eye winked shut, "Didn't say I was perfect."   
He felt Piccolo's fingers brush his as he took the smooth soap off his palm.   
"Nobody is," Piccolo shifted, coating himself in pine-scented suds. He paused to wash his face. "but you're capable of a lot more than I expected. Nail trained you well, Tonkeshin."   
Tonk found his own soap just as Piccolo's shower cut off. He washed behind his ears, under his arms and all around his chest. After a quick rinse, he finished, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked carefully across the wet tiles, trailing the wall with his cane and free hand to find his locker.   
Realizing the locker room was empty, Tonk whipped the towel off to dry his head. "Still in here?"   
"Yeah." on the far right. "I'm already dressed."   
Tonk wasn't embarrassed by the revelation. Piccolo probably didn't have any genitals either, so it wasn't like Tonk's lacking them would shock him. He did, however, feel the other's eyes watch him locate his locker door, open it and paw around for his clothes and some deodorant.   
_Good old Sure_.   
He dressed himself in his usual jeans and T-shirt. "Didn't we have a deal?"   
"I remember it." His locker creaked as Piccolo leaned on the door. "But neither of us won."   
"I think it was a tie." Tonkeshin smiled. He popped his belongings into a capsule that he placed in his pocket and reached for his cane. "So I guess we both have to keep up our ends."   
"Mm. I have never tasted a, what did you call it - "   
"Smoothie."   
"- smoothie, before."   
Tonk's smile grew. As his cane unfolded, he said, "Trust me, they're great."   
"I suppose I can trust you," Piccolo sounded dryly amused. "We should go before intermission starts, or we may never get out of here without reporters jumping down our throats."   
They stepped outside together, Tonk using Piccolo's padding footsteps as a directional guide.   
Ki sparkled to life on the right. Small at first, then huge upon approach. Obnoxiously high. Tonkeshin wrinkled his nose, he knew that ki and faced its source when it stopped beside him.   
"What do you want, Vegeta?"   
"Nothing," said the arrogant Saiyajin, "You fight pretty good. . .for a blind guy."   
Tonk snorted at his sarcasm. "Don't expect my attitude towards you to change just because of what I heard about you."   
Vegeta's smooth tenor voice reeked of egotism, "I don't have time for _you_ anyway."   
And Tonk bristled, "You ARROGANT little -"   
"Guys, come on." Piccolo stepped between them, growling a bit himself. "Don't start this crap again."   
"Hmph. Fine." said Vegeta. He turned away, chuckled and walked back towards the main arena. His ki stopped flaring, thus saving Tonk's head from the obnoxious buzzing. "See you in three years, blind bean."   
"I won't see you, but I'll smell your rotten Saiyajin blood! You hear me! I still remember what you did!"   
"Tonkeshin, he's gone. Let it go."   
He boiled in silence, but the high of the Tournament quickly cooled his temper. _I shouldn't let an idiot like Vegeta ruin my day. Besides, I can always get a rematch in three more years. Maybe I'll get lucky and win!_   
"So. . .how many flavors are there in a smoothie?"   
"Huh?" He started walking with Piccolo again, his cane tapping on the sidewalk. "Well, there's my favorite - virgin tropical, but there's mango, mocha, watermelon. . ."   
Tonk was still naming off smoothie flavors when they exited the Tournament grounds. 

0

"Two virgin tropicals for the Tournament boys here. On the house, okay?"   
"Wow, are you sure?"   
"Tonkeshin, she said it's free. Enjoy it while you can."   
Tonk shoved his wallet back into its proper pocket. He heard himself thanking the waitress and pressed his palms to the cool smoothie glass. All around, people were talking about him, Piccolo and the Tournament.   
Mr. Satan won, naturally, and pumped up his public image by donating his winnings to a children's hospital in West City.   
Smiling, Tonk wrapped his lips around the straw and slurped. Delicious fruity flavors rolled over his tongue. He heard Piccolo do the same.   
"Hm," Piccolo's lips smacked together, "this isn't half bad, Tonkeshin."   
He slurped on his own, draining a fourth of the glass in one go. Something about the cold thickness drove away his cares about the day. All that mattered was the taste. "I told you, they're good."   
A sigh from Piccolo. He sighed a lot, Tonk realized. Then he heard gulping and the clunk of a glass settling on the table. Piccolo just chugged his smoothie!   
He heard him slap a palm over his forehead. "Ow. . .my head. . ."   
"You're supposed to sip it and enjoy the taste," Tonk pointed out, chuckling. "Otherwise, you'll get brain freeze."   
Piccolo shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the crowd of people eating and laughing around them. He let go of his head and rapped on the glass tabletop. "Old habits die hard, I guess."   
With a smile, Tonk shook his head and sipped from his straw. "Guess so. Want to get out of here? You sound antsy."   
"Hmph." Coins clattered onto the table. "Your human friend is consuming too much alcohol."   
"He's a big boy. It takes a lot to get him drunk."   
"Fine."   
Piccolo stood up and walked away. Tonk rushed after him, barely dodging other people and chairs sitting in his path. He stumbled outside into the balmy evening air. The ocean hissed and sizzled a short distance away, but he didn't take time to smell the yummy sea foam aroma.   
Cloth flapped ahead. Tonk followed the sound.   
"I'm not a fan of crowds," Piccolo said by way of apology.   
"It's fine. I understand." he said, flipping his cane into the pencil grip. "What do you look like?"   
"What do I - oh. . ." the other fell silent for a long time. Many swishes of surf passed before his answer came, "Dende says I look just like Nail. I'd assume you know what he looked like."   
"Yes, I've felt Nail's face before."   
"Good. Now for my end of the deal," Piccolo faced him, "I found Nail after Freeza attacked him."   
Weight settled on Tonk's heart. He swallowed hard, remembering how bad Nail sounded the last time they spoke.   
"Nail was mortally wounded, probably a few minutes from dying, when I found him. He told me he'd seen Freeza's power and that my power alone wasn't enough to do battle. He said if we combined our powers together, we'd have a chance." Piccolo lowered his tone, "So we fused, and he's been a part of me ever since."   
"Was. . ." Tonk leaned forward, ". . .was he still alive when you merged?"   
"Yes." answered a rough tenor voice. "I'm still alive."   
Tonkeshin felt his cane slip through boneless fingers. A lump formed in his throat. He stared blankly ahead, wide eyed, tears pooling against his lower eyelids.   
"Nail," he reached out. The other Namek didn't move. Tonk's shaking fingers encountered a familiar, strong chin, tilted eyes and soft lips. The cheekbones were sharper than the ones he remembered, a harsh reminder that Nail no longer existed as he knew him.   
Yet it didn't matter when Nail smiled through Piccolo's lips. "You made me proud today."   
Tears streamed down Tonk's cheeks. He bit his lower lip, "I didn't win. It was a draw."   
"I know, I can see what Piccolo sees." Nail still smiled, "Winning or losing doesn't matter, Tonkeshin, it's how well you fought that counts. And you fought _very_ well."   
He let his fingers slide off Nail's face and gripped the front of his shirt.   
Nail chuckled softly. Tonk was drawn close and pressed to his chest. It didn't feel or smell like Nail, but that didn't matter. "It's also okay to cry if you need to. I have yet to teach Piccolo that, so you have one up on him there."   
Tonk laughed and sobbed at the same time. "When I couldn't find you after the Earthers wished us back, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."   
"It's all right now. But you don't need my help anymore. I taught you everything I know, and you've done pretty good on your own here."   
Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out.   
Tonk leaned back and looked up towards the other Namek's face. His eyes were puffy from the tears still trickling down his cheeks. "That doesn't mean I don't need _you_ anymore! Isn't there a way to get your own body back?"   
Nail audibly shook his head, "This was a one time deal."   
Sighing, Tonk swiped at the moisture on his face. He hated it when other people saw him cry no matter what the reason. "So this is goodbye. . ."   
"No. It's silly to say goodbye to someone that isn't gone."   
"You're right," he chuckled, his smile emerging like warmth after a cold storm, "so you'll still be around, in Piccolo?"   
"As long as he lives."   
That set Tonk's heart at ease.   
"For the record," Nail squeezed his shoulder, "I hardly ever noticed you were blind until you walked into a closed door or fell off a cliff -"   
"Argh!" Tonk's face lit on fire. "Not the cliff! I was hoping you'd forget that."   
"Ah," a laugh, "I can still see you wandering away without your cane and walking right off the edge while bragging about your excellent sense of direction."   
"_That_ was embarrassing." he groaned, "I hate cliffs. Good thing I hit water, huh?"   
"Good thing I knew how to swim."   
They both chuckled.   
"Ahh, Piccolo wants control again." Nail cleared his throat, "I can't keep pushing him back forever."   
Nodding slowly, Tonk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"   
"You won't always know I'm there, but I'll check up on you once in awhile."   
"Thanks, Nail." He felt another tear get away, "for everything."   
"You're welcome."   
Both fell silent. Tonk kept clutching "Nail's" shirt, his ears flooded with the roaring ocean six feet away. It hissed and sizzled as if alive, yet everything else stood perfectly still. Frozen in time.   
Piccolo loudly cleared his throat, startling Tonkeshin from his reverie. "You can let go now."   
Smiling sheepishly, Tonk released Piccolo's baggy shirt.   
"Here," Piccolo handed him his cane, "I should be going now. Nice meeting you, Tonkeshin. I enjoyed our fight."   
Still shaken, Tonk accepted his cane in numb fingers. "Me, too. And I think you're pretty cool, Piccolo. Look me up if you want another smoothie."   
"I'll keep that in mind." Piccolo pulled his cape around his body. It swished twice. Then his energy signal zoomed straight west and disappeared, leaving Tonk alone on the beach.   
"Bye. . ." he whispered to the horizon.   
Suddenly, a piece of shrimp slapped into the back of his head. It slid down under his shirt, trailing freezing cold sauce. He "gah'ed" and danced around, trying to shake it out.   
A brave seagull landed on his head and snatched the shrimp out of his shirt. The bird's cold, wet feet shifted as it turned around and decided to sit down on his head.   
Greg's laughter echoed over the beach. Somebody took a photo.   
"GREG!" Tonk's eyes crossed when he felt seagull droppings splatter on the back of his neck. He batted the buzzard off his head and used the surf to clean off. "Argh! This thing crapped on me!"   
"It what!" The chubby human burst into hysterics. "AHAHA! Guess it liked you. Here, have more!"   
"No, I don't - "   
Splat!   
Another shrimp hit Tonk between the eyes and slid coldly down the slope of his nose. He caught it, sniffed it once and popped it into his mouth. Might as well eat it before the gull decided to use his head as a perch again. He almost gagged on the slimy texture, which brought back the very wet memory of Carol's martini kiss.   
"Ready to chase those bras, Tonk?" Greg called from the cafe door. Tonk could tell he was a little drunk by his obnoxious tone.   
"Are you ready to eat a bucket of shrimp whole?" He tapped towards his human friend, grinning wickedly. "C'mere, let's see how many I can fit - "   
"Hell no!" he slammed the door.   
Tonk pulled the door back open, laughing, "You _better_ run!"   
"Boy," Lians called from the bar, his gruff voice obvious above the rest. The next time he spoke, he was at the door beside him, "your friend drank four beers and a wine cooler. I think he is out of sorts."   
"How _do_ you do that, Lians?" Dende materialized out of nowhere.   
"I can smell, that's how," the elder replied. Sake hung on his breath, but he wasn't the least bit drunk. Unlike most of the humans making fools of themselves around the eatery part of the cafe, he seemed to know when he'd had enough.   
Somebody sang on the kareoke machine. Whoever they were, they needed voice lessons. Tonk cringed at the high notes. "Who IS that up there?"   
It was Dende's turn to act sheepish. "That's. . .Krillin. He's drunk. . .and Eighteen is dragging him offstage right now."   
Lians huffed. "The others have gone ahead."   
"Aw, I wanted to say 'bye' to Gohan and Pan." Tonk frowned, "That little girl is so cute.."   
"Indeed."   
"Well, I shouldn't mope. I'll see them again someday." Laughing, Tonk brushed past them. His cane bumped into the potted plant by the door. The bar was quiet, probably close to closing for the night. "Come on, let's all have another smoothie before they kick us out."   
"You silly children can have a smoothie if you like." said Lians. He gave a watery laugh as he planted himself on a barstool that creaked under his weight, "I will partake of one more sake bowl."   
"You know what?" Easing himself onto a stool next to Lians, Tonk raised a finger, "Make that two sake bowls."   
"Gods, you two!"   
"Oh, come on, Dende! Just one?"   
"It'll put muscle in your chest, boy, and you could use a little muscle." Lians rapped his long, sharp nails on the bartop and barked, "Barkeep?"   
Earth's Guardian sounded a bit reluctant. "Mm, fine, I guess I'm old enough for one. But _only_ one."   
"That's more like it!"   
"Correction," Tonk raised his hand again, grinning at the flustered bartender. "make that three sake bowls!" 

0

The room spun. His head spun. Life spun. Sounds came from further away than they actually were. Every one of his senses were distorted beyond recognition. The floor under his feet slanted as if he was walking up a sharp incline. A second later it tilted the other way like a boat on choppy water.   
"Ooh, liquor hates me," moaned Tonkeshin. His Namekian brogue, which he couldn't suppress while drunk, leaked into his voice. He spoke with as thick an accent as the blind elder sitting beside him.   
"Boy, you need to work up your tolerance," Lians caught Tonk when his knees buckled. "You're not swinging your cane properly."   
"Both of us," Dende staggered alongside them, mumbling, "guh, I think I'm gonna be sick!"   
Lians just laughed while poor Dende threw up in the potted plant by the door. Tonk wrinkled his nose at the smell of bile.   
"Lians, you're terrible! You did this on purpose, didn't you?"   
The elder Namek huffed in mock indignance, "How else are you supposed to celebrate a battle well fought? Ahh. . .this makes me miss the old brew we used to make on Namek. . ."   
Tonk ran nose first into a wall. He could've sworn a door existed there two minutes ago. _Gah, I forgot my swing_. His hand wandered until he found the handle and pushed it open. Sea air greeted him, clearing his senses enough to tell up from down.   
"Oh, crap," Greg jogged up to them, "you got _both_ of them drunk?"   
Lians just chuckled. His wooden cane slid against the rough cement walkway outside the cafe. "Tonkeshin never could hold liquor to save his life. Dende hasn't tasted it before tonight. It isn't my fault they can't handle it. It was, after all, their decision to partake of the bottle."   
"One BOWL full, not the bottle." Tonk cut in, laughing. He could smell the sake on his own breath. "Oh boy, I think I'm gonna fall now." And he toppled backwards, his feet sticking straight up in the air.   
"Good idea."   
THUD!   
Dende joined him a second later.   
"Um, Lians?" Greg hedged, "Can I borrow your stick? I've always wanted to poke Tonk with a stick."   
"Tch, get your own stick, boy."   
Tonk felt Lians wrap a strong, wrinkled hand around his arm and haul him up.   
"M'awake, I swear!"   
"Good, put your hand on your friend's shoulder and he'll lead you to your sleeping area." the hand let go. Tonk cocked his head at the elder's words. Lians went on, "I must take Dende somewhere to rest. We'll return to the Lookout in the morning."   
"Soooo. . .this is goodbye for a little while?"   
"This won't be the last time we meet, Tonkeshin."   
"No," said Greg, all humor gone from his voice, "but it better be the last time you get Tonk drunk. You know that's not good for him."   
"Button it," Lians groused, "he can handle a little drink. But your concern is accepted. Next time," he clicked his fangs, "I'll make it two."   
Greg _finally_ got Lians' sarcastic humor. He wrapped his arm more tightly around Tonk's waist and laughed. "And I'll make sure you chug a whole bottle just to see if that wastes you, old man!"   
"Bah! It takes four bottles before I feel anything!"   
"Gweh," Dende moaned, "Pleeeaaaaase stop yellin', my head is ringin'! Ow."   
"I wasn't yellin'," Tonk snickered. Suddenly, everything seemed utterly hilarious. Greg's voice, Lians' proclamation, Dende's groaning. . .even the sound of the ocean made him giggle like he heard a whoopie cushion go off during a high school exam.   
"Here come the giggles. I better get him back to the hotel."   
"Hey, heheh, Lians," he snorted really loud, making himself laugh harder. Any attempt at being serious went flying out the window. "It was nice to see you again. Come back soon, BWAHAHAHA, okay? Please?"   
"It's a promise." Lians turned away, "Come morning, I will be gone. The wish was to allow me one day here on Earth. At sunrise I will be transported back to Namek." A smile showed in his tone, "And THAT, boy, is why I made you drink. So you won't be upset with me. Now go with your friend and rest for tonight. You did yourself proud. Remember that."   
"Aw, Lians," he snorted again, this time causing Greg to break up. "Thanks a lot for comin'."   
"Anytime." the elder hauled Dende to his feet. Dende mumbled something resembling a farewell. Then Lians' tapping cane faded onto the sand. Knowing him, he probably dropped Dende in the freezing surf to wake him up.   
Vertigo made a nasty return trip.   
"Riding the merry go round from Hell yet?"   
"I never got off," mumbled Tonk, "help me to the hotel room, okay? And please don't write on the back of my head after I'm asleep like last time!"   
"You know me, I'd _never_ do a thing like _that_."   
"Exactly." he followed Greg when he started walking off the beach. "If I wake up wearin' your underwear on my head, you'll be eatin' 'em for lunch."   
"Trust me."   
That was the last thing he remembered.   
When Tonk woke up the next morning, tired and hungover, he discovered Greg had rearranged every piece of furniture in the hotel room. He banged into a chair, tripped into the nightstand and fell headfirst over his suitcase. Somehow, in his disorientation, he found his cane slung over the coat rack placed right in front of the toilet.   
"Greg, you are _so_ dead," he moaned to himself. "Or you will be as soon as I brush my teeth. . ."   
Tonk got Greg back by replacing all of his underwear with cheap thongs. He used the camera phone to take a picture of himself throwing a pair of boxers out the window.   
Greg found the thongs first, then the picture. He grudgingly agreed to fix the room. They both had a good laugh about it.   
And Tonk stole just enough extra time to shower before he had to prepare for the flight back to Satan City. 

0

Click.   
"Goooooooood morning Satan City! This is Kreemin Shooger at SC one - zero - three - point - five! The time is seven-thirty. Today we have hazy skies with lows in the mid sixties and a high of ninety two. Currently, downtown Satan City is reporting in at seventy-three degrees. I'll be back with your traffic report - "   
A hand searched the nightstand, found the clock and switched off the alarm. Sheets rustled in protest as a sleepy figure stirred from underneath.   
Tonkeshin yawned, dropped to the floor and did ten quick push ups to shake off his grogginess. He'd set his clock to play the radio by mistake, _again_. Ah well, he kind of liked it that way.   
He went through his usual morning routine of a hot shower, dressing in a clean suit, brushing his teeth and taking a quick breakfast sip of water. Then it was off to face his ordinary life all over again.   
The walk to work proved a peaceful one. He smiled at the people who recognized him.   
His favorite part?   
They didn't recognize him because of his cane. They recognized him because 'he was the underdog green man that kicked butt at the Tournament'.   
It was the recognition he wanted. By the time he reached his workplace, he felt higher than a kite.   
Tonk pressed a hand to the cool door leading into the office. Suspicious silence greeted him when he slid inside.   
"Hello?" He tapped around, listening for echoes, "Uh. . .we _are_ working today, aren't we?"   
The entire place erupted into applause.   
He stared ahead, stunned. Then his face burned. Smiling, he ducked his head, "Aw geez, you got me!"   
A hand more meaty than Greg's clapped Tonk across the back. Tonk jumped and turned towards its owner, "Mr. Latte?"   
"Naturally," came the hearty southern reply, "Kreemin and I saw you on TV, and the Tournament directors let us broadcast audio from the Tournament. You were great! You got us publicity!" Mr. Latte tucked a cigar into Tonk's jacket pocket. "I think, just for that, you deserve a little raise."   
Tonk gulped, afraid to mention that he didn't smoke. "R-really?"   
"Two hundred more bucks, Tonk!" Greg called from his cubicle.   
"TWO hundred? Are you sure?"   
Another arm materialized out of nowhere. This one smelled of vanilla hand cream, "You're a lucky guy, Tonk."   
"Carol," He blushed and, for lack of anything better to say, stammered, "Umm, ah. . .I'm late for work."   
The whole office laughed. Realizing how silly he sounded, Tonk chortled right along with them. Then he folded his cane and made a hasty retreat for his desk. Somebody put balloons all over his cubicle, most of which he found with his nose.   
Everybody in the office had fun batting the balloons back and forth. Then Mr. Latte caught them red handed and ordered them to save it for break time.   
As he placed his hands on his keyboard, Tonk sensed a ki landing on the movie theater rooftop across the street. He turned towards the open window. The breeze blew on his face, carrying with it the smallest hint of desert dust.   
His phone rang, reminding him that, despite what he'd learned about himself, his everyday life was still the same. He faced his computer screen, smiled and took the call.   
"Hi, this is SC one - zero - three - point - five. My name is Tonkeshin. How can I help you?" 

**THE END**   
(_Unmei no Hi - Tamashi Vs. Tamashi_ aka Spirit Vs. Spirit starts playing here.) 

VOICES IN MY HEAD: 

Tonkeshin - Richard Hayworth   
Greg Coffee - John Candy   
Lians - Ed Asner   
Carol Folgers - Lucy Lawless   
Mr. Latte - John Goodman   
Kreemin Shooger - Brent Spiner   
and   
Vegeta - Brian Drummond   
Piccolo - Scott McNeil 

Author's note: Yes! Here it is! The conclusion of my baby. I'm actually a little sad to see it end, but all stories must conclude at some time. 

Now, before you throw things at me, please let me apologize for my absence. I got a job and I haven't had time to write like I used to. I was going to end this chapter at the end of the Tournament, but feared I wouldn't have time to write again for a long while. So I wrote the ending as one long chapter. 

I didn't rush this just to finish the story and get it out of my way. This is the ending I planned for since the start, it's just all wrapped up in one chapter instead of two 0sheepish Tonkeshin grin0. I hope the long chapter(and having two naked Nameks at once for you ladies! 0wink0) makes up for my being MIA for a year. I'm REALLY sorry I took so long. But look! It's just in time for Tonk's second birthday! So there's a bright side to this, right? Did I make it worth the wait? 

Thanks to everyone who read this all the way through! I love you all for your reviews, encouragement and humor. It's been fun, and hey. . .maybe I'll write another one someday in the future! 

Buh-bye for now! 

(_Solid State Scouter_ plays here!) 


End file.
